CATTLE-RANCH 
TO  COLLEGE 


A  TRUE  STORY  OF  THE  FAR 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


** 


CATTLE  KANCH   TO   COLLEGE. 


CATTLE-RANCH 
TO  COLLEGE 

THE  TRUE  TALE  OF 
A  BOYS  ADVENTURES 
IN  THE  FAR  VEST 


BY 


RUSSELL  DOUBLEDAY 

"A  GUNNER  ABOARD 
THE  YANKEE" 


NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY^MCCLURE  Co 

MDCCCXCIX 


COPYRIGHT,  1899,  BT 
DOUBLEDAY    &   McCLURK   CO 


TO  MY  MOTHER, 
KINDLY  CRITIC,  COUNSELLOR,  AND  FRIEND, 

THIS  BOOK  IS 
AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


PKEFACE. 

This  is  a  true  tale  of  a  boy's  life  in  the  West 
twenty-five  years  ago.  It  is  an  account  of  his 
amusements,  his  trials,  his  work,  his  play.  The 
incidents  described  actually  happened  and  are 
described  substantially  as  "  the  boy "  related 
them  to  the  writer. 

The  "  wild  and  woolly  "  West  is  fast  vanish- 
ing, and  a  great  deal  of  the  adventurous  life  is 
going  with  it.  Buffalo  hunts  are  things  of  the 
past;  encounters  with  Indians  that  were  ex- 
perienced in  the  time  of  John  Worth's  boyhood 
are  now  happily  very  rare;  railroads  have  pene- 
trated the  cattle  country,  and  vast  herds  of  cattle 
are  no  longer  driven  long  distances  to  the  ship- 
ping point,  so  that  the  consequent  danger,  hard- 
ship, and  excitement  are  largely  done  away  with. 

In  places  the  great  prairies  have  been  fenced, 
in  others  grain  grows  where  heretofore  only  buf- 
falo, cattle,  and  horses  ranged,  and  much  of  the 
free,  wild  life  of  the  cowboy,  the  ranchman,  and 
the  miner  is  gone  for  all  time. 


viii  PREFA  CE. 

It  is  hoped  that  this  book  will  be  of  interest, 
not  because  of  its  novelty  but  of  its  truthfulness. 
The  author  feels  that  the  story  of  a  boy  who  has 
passed  through  the  stern  training  of  a  frontier 
life  to  an  honorable  place  in  an  Eastern  univer- 
sity will  be  acceptable  to  boys  young  and  old. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  AN  INDIAN  ATTACK 1 

II.  THE  YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING         ...  20 

III.  A  NARROW  ESCAPE 36 

IV.  HITTING  THE  TRAIL 54 

V.  IN  A  MINING  CAMP 73 

VI.  A  SNOWSHOE  RACE 91 

VII.  A  BUFFALO  HUNT         • .      • .        .        .        .106 

VIII.  A  CLOSE  FINISH 122 

IX.  A  "BAD  MAN'S"  END   ....  140 

X.  BATTLE  ROYAL 157 

XI.  A  TRYING  JOURNEY         ....  177 

XII.  A  CHANGE  OF  SCENE       ....  195 

XIII.  HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING  GOLD    .        .  214 

XIV.  A  MIGRATION 229 

XV.  "RANGE-RIDING"  .        .        .-      .        .  245 

XVI.  A  BRONCHO  BUSTER        .        .        ...        .    ggi 

XVII.    A   COW-PUNCHER  IN   EARNEST  .  273 


x  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.  A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE  .        .        .        .289 

XIX.  AN  AWAKENING 304 

XX.  A  TRANSFORMATION 317 

XXI.  TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES   AWHEEL  TO  COL- 
LEGE   .  .    331 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A  XXX  BUNCH 

MOUNTING  A  BUCKING  BRONCHO 
GLANCING  OVER  SAW  AN  INDIAN  VILLAGE 
OUSTER'S  COMMAND 


Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

.       14 

.       32 

50 


THE  TAIL  OF  THE  COOK'S  WAGON  WAS  LET  DOWN 
THE  STOCK  OF  THE  RIFLE  RESTED  CLOSELY  AGAINST 

His  CHEEK 

BEN  WENT  OVER  TO  WHERE  THE  GAME  LAY 

ROPING  AN  UNBROKEN  HORSE 

"CROW  HAT'S  FACING  THIS  WAY"     . 

THE  INDIAN  CAMP 

THE  BIGGEST  GAME  THE  COUNTRY  AFFORDED    . 
A  SQUAW    .     .     .     JUST  SAW  SOME  BUFFALO    . 
A  SHEPHERD  ALONE  WITH  His  FLOCK 
A  DIFFICULT   TASK  IF  THERE  ARE  MANY  LAMBS  IN 

THE  FLOCK    

MR.  WORTH  HAD  BUILT  FOR  HIMSELF  A  NEW  HOUSE 

THE  SHEEP  RANCH  HOUSE 

HE    .     .     .     BUCKS,  PITCHES,  KICKS 

CURRAN,  BRADY'S  NIGHT  WRANGLER          .        .        . 


62 


98 
104 

118 
136 

146 
158 

170 
190 


xii  LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

FACING  PAGE 

THE  MEN  BROKE  UP  INTO  LITTLE  GROUPS  .  .  210 
A  ROPE  CORRAL  WAS  DRAWN  ABOUT  THE  SADDLE 

BAND 220 

EACH  MAN  TOOK  His  ROPE  AND  FLUNG  IT  OVER  THE 

HORSE  HE  WANTED 236 

A  LITTLE  Box  OF  A  CABIN  IT  WAS  ....  248 
THE  SNUBBING  POST  HOLDS  HIM  PAST 

JERRY  TAKES  IN  THE  SLACK f-264 

JOHN  KNOTS  THE  ROPE  LOOSELY  ROUND  HIS  NECK 

ROPED  

THROWN j-278 

WHOSE  is  IT  ?  A  QUESTION  OF  OWNERSHIP 

DRAGGED  IT  UP  TO  THE  FIRE ] 

1290 
.     .     .    WHILE  THE  IRON  WAS  APPLIED      .        .        .  J 

HERDS  WERE  POURING  IN  FROM  EVERY  DIRECTION  .  308 
THE  DRIVE  FORDING  A  STREAM  ....  320 
THE  SUN  RIVER  RANCH  HOUSE  .  .  334 


MARGINAL  ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY 
JANET  MAC  DONALD. 


The  drawings  of  beaver,  etc.,  on  pages  75,  84,  and  90, 
by  Ernest  Seton  Thompson  are  reproduced  through  the 
courtesy  of  Recreation. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO 
COLLEGE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

AN   INDIAN   ATTACK. 

A  solitary  horseman  rode  into  the  little  fron- 
tier town  of  Bismarck,  shortly  after  dark  one 
evening,  about  twenty-five  years  ago.  Horse 
and  rider  passed  up  the  single  unpaved  street; 
in  the  darkness  no  one  noticed  the  fagged  con- 
dition of  the  animal,  nor  the  excitement  of  the 
rider,  betokened  by  the  continued  urging  of  his 
weary  pony. 

The  town  was  unusually  full  of  the  nomadic 
people  who  made  up  its  population,  cow- 
punchers,  saloon  keepers,  gamblers,  freighters, 
and  outlaws.  The  evening  quiet  was  constantly 
broken  by  the  bounds  of  revelry,  and  the  report 
of  a  pistol  occasionally  punctuated  the  general 
1 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

noise  as  some  hilarious  cowboy  playfully  shot  at 
the  lights. 

In  the  dim  ray  cast  across  the  street  through 
the  small  windows  of  the  saloons  and  dance  halls, 
no  one  saw  the  horseman  ride  up  the  street  to 
"  Black  Jack's,"  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
saloons;  here  he  stiffly  dismounted  and  tied  his 
pony  to  the  pole  where  stood  a  row  of  other 
horses.  After  glancing  around  to  see  that  all 
was  secure,  he  entered.  He  was  hailed  with  a 
chorus  of  shouted  greetings  and  questions. 

"Hello,  Harry!  what's  the  matter?" 

"  Why,  there's  Harry  Hodson !  What  drove 
you  down  the  trail  to-night?  " 

"Are  you  dry,  old  man?  Come  and  drive  a 
nail  with  me." 

These  and  many  more  questions  poured  in  on 
him  so  thick  and  fast  that  no  chance,  for  some 
time,  was  given  him  to  speak. 

As  the  crowd  drew  around  the  newcomer,  who 
was  a  sober,  steady  cattleman  from  twenty-five 
miles  up  the  river,  they  noticed  that  there  was 
something  out  of  the  ordinary  in  his  manner. 
Even  the  fact  of  his  appearance  at  that  place  and 
hour  was  unusual. 

"No,  boys,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  the  many 
invitations  to  drink.     "I  think  we'll  all  need 
clear  heads  before  daylight." 
2 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK 

"Why,  what's  the  trouble?"  chorused  the 
crowd. 

"  The  fact  is,"  continued  Hodson,  hurriedly, 
"  I  cached  my  cattle  and  then  came  down  to 
tell  you  that  a  big  bunch  of  Indians  crossed  the 
river  above  my  place  this  afternoon,  and  they 
looked  as  if  they  were  on  the  war  path." 

All  were  attentive  now,  and  even  the  most 
reckless  of  these  wild  men,  living  continually 
in  the  midst  of  dangers,  wore  grave  faces. 

"  I  didn't  stop  to  investigate.  I  wasn't  taking 
any  chances,  you  see,"  he  went  on.  "  So  I  ran 
my  cattle  over  onto  Woody  Island  and  then 
started  down  the  trail,  giving  the  word  to  the 
fellows  along  the  road.  Ilostiles  have  been 
pretty  thick  across  the  river  lately,  and  I've  had 
to  watch  out." 

By  this  time  all  hands  were  thoroughly  inter- 
ested. As  Hodson  went  on  with  his  tale,  the 
men  drew  nearer  to  him,  their  faces  showing 
how  keenly  they  realized  what  his  news  might 
mean  to  all. 

Questions  followed  thick  and  fast. 

"How  many  were  there?  Where  did  they 
cross  ?  "  asked  one.  . 

"How  many  horses?  Did  they  have  any 
squaws  with  them? " 

Without  giving  Hodson  a  chance  to  answer, 
8 


CATTLE  RANCn  TO  COLLEGE. 

they  all  began  to  talk  in  an  excited  babel  of 
voices,  advancing  opinions  and  theories  as  to  what 
had  taken  place.  One  big  fellow,  in  a  red  flannel 
shirt,  asserted  that  they  must  have  crossed  the 
river  at  Elbow  Island;  another  contradicted  this 
statement  and  said  that  the  stream  was  too  wide 
at  this  point  and  that  they  crossed  in  "  bull 
boats,"  as  the  rude  craft  made  of  buffalo  or 
cow  hides  stretched  over  strong  light  frames  of 
willow  were  called. 

Hodson  stood  apart  while  this  discussion  was 
going  on,  with  the  bored  air  of  one  who  was 
fully  acquainted  with  the  facts  and  could  end 
the  unnecessary  talk  in  a  moment  if  he  was  al- 
lowed an  opportunity. 

"  Big  Bill  "  Smith,  one  of  the  older  men,  took 
in  the  situation.  "  Dry  up,"  said  he;  "  let  Harry 
talk,  will  you?  He's  the  only  one  who  knows 
anything." 

"  Well,"  said  Harry,  as  the  crowd  once  more 
turned  to  him,  "  there  isn't  much  talking  to  do, 
but  there's  plenty  of  hustling  ahead  for  us. 
About  two  hundred  Indians  crossed  the  river  up 
at  Sioux  Ford.  They  were  travelling  pretty 
light,  and  I  guess  they  ase  looking  for  beef  or 
anything  else  they  can  lay  their  hands  on ;  prob- 
ably they  think  they  can  scare  us  off  with  a  few 
shots  and  then  run  the  stock  off.  They  had  a  lot 
4 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

of  horses — not  enough,  to  go  around — but  a  lot. 
We've  got  to  get  ready  for  them  on  the  jump, 
for  if  they're  coming  they'll  be  here  before  day- 
light, and  the  stock  and  wagons  will  have  to  be 
got  in  right  away." 

"  Somebody  go  for  Jim  Mackenzie,"  said  Big 
Bill. 

As  one  of  the  men  started  for  the  door  to 
carry  out  this  order,  a  tall,  commanding  figure, 
grizzled  and  somewhat  bent,  but  more  from 
hardship  than  from  age,  entered  the  room.  He 
was  recognized  at  once  as  the  sheriff:  the  cen- 
tral figure  when  trouble  was  brewing,  but  a  re- 
tiring, inconspicuous  citizen  when  all  was  peace- 
ful. 

When  action  was  required  he  was  in  his  ele- 
ment. A  man  to  depend  on  in  time  of  trouble, 
one  to  command  in  an  emergency.  It  was  very 
noticeable  that  these  rough  cattlemen,  accus- 
tomed to  depend  upon  themselves,  who  when  off 
duty  acknowledged  no  law  except  their  own 
wishes,  instinctively  looked  for  a  leader  when 
confronted  with  this  common  danger.  No  one 
thought  for  an  instant  of  questioning  his  orders, 
but  obeyed  with  military  precision.  For  the 
time,  his  word  was  law. 

"Harry,"  said  the  sheriff,  turning  to  the 
bringer  of  these  bad  tidings,  after  the  above  facts 
5 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

had  been  told  him,  "you  put  your  saddle  on 
my  bay  and  take  a  couple  of  men  with  you  back 
on  the  trail.  Bring  back  Jim  White  and  his 
outfit  of  wagons  and  stock;  he's  camped  down 
on  Hay  Creek.  There  are  some  smaller  outfits 
on  the  Black  Hills  road;  better  help  them  get 
in.  You'll  want  to  hustle/'  he  added,  as  Hodson 
and  his  two  helpers  went  out. 

"  Smith,"  continued  the  sheriff,  issuing  orders 
as  fast  as  a  pony  could  trot,  "  take  a  couple  of 
men  and  get  in  the  circle  bar  O  stock,  there's 
only  a  night-herder  with  them.  The  rest  of  you 
who  have  wagons  and  stock  out,  bring  them  in 
yourselves.  All  you  loose  men,"  he  added,  as 
he  noticed  that  several  men  still  lingered  in  the 
hot,  close,  smoke-filled  room,  "get  your  guns, 
saddle  up,  and  come  to  my  shack." 

The  sheriff  had  been  in  the  place  but  five 
minutes,  but  now  fat  Sam  Whitney,  a  frequenter 
of  the  place,  Black  Jack,  the  saloon  keeper,  and 
a  couple  of  soldiers  from  the  fort  across  the  river, 
were  all  that  remained  with  him. 

The  men  outside  could  be  heard  saddling  up, 
struggling  with  their  refractory  horses,  and  call- 
ing out  to  each  other;  from  time  to  time  the 
rapidly  diminishing  sound  of  galloping  hoofs 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  silent  men  who  for  the 
moment  remained  motionless. 
6 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

The  sheriff  was  planning  his  defence  against 
the  expected  Indian  attack,  and  the  men  who 
were  with  him,  without  a  word,  waited  for  the 
announcement  of  his  next  move.  It  was  Jim 
Mackenzie,  and  they  put  themselves  in  his  hands 
with  blind  confidence. 

Bismarck  was  a  frontier  town  in  the  full  sense 
of  the  word.  A  collection  of  rude  houses,  more 
or  less  strongly  built  of  logs  and  dried  mud,  strag- 
gled along  the  single  street.  Placed  at  the  inter- 
section of  the  expected  railroad  and  the  Missouri 
River,  a  town  of  considerable  size  was  mapped 
and  many  streets  with  high-sounding  names  were 
projected.  But  only  Main  Street  was  actually 
laid  out.  The  houses,  which  their  inhabitants 
called  shacks,  were  built  on  the  north  side  of 
the  street  facing  the  south,  in  obedience  to 
the  natural  law  of  cold  climates,  so  Bismarck 
boasted  really  of  but  half  a  street,  and  that  a 
short  one. 

Fort  Abraham  Lincoln,  situated  directly  across 
the  river,  was  supposed  to  afford  protection  to 
the  settlers  from  the  Indian  marauders,  but  the 
hardy,  self-reliant  frontiersmen  were  generally 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves.  Not  many  of 
the  inhabitants  stayed  the  year  round.  The  few 
who  did  remain  through  all  seasons — the  saloon 
keepers,  horseshoers,  stable  keepers,  and  the 
7 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

three  families — dwelt  in  the  more  pretentious 
houses.  The  other  residences  were  mere  tem- 
porary shelters,  which  their  owners  would  not 
have  considered  worth  fitting  up  had  they  been 
able  to  do  so. 

Around  the  outskirts  of  the  town  were  always 
a  number  of  freight  outfits,  and  this  night  was 
no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  The  cum- 
brous wagons  were  drawn  in  a  circle,  harnesses 
lying  in  a  seemingly  hopeless  tangle  on  the 
wagon  tongues,  and  the  tents  were  pitched 
against  their  sides  or  canvas  lean-to's  were  rigged 
up.  A  number  of  greasy  men  lounged  around 
the  campfires,  some  sleeping,  some  re-braiding 
whips,  some  mending  harness  or  chopping  out 
new  brake  blocks.  The  work  stock  were  grazing 
at  a  little  distance  where  the  grass  was  good, 
guarded  by  an  armed  herder. 

To  these  freighters'  camps  came  the  sheriff 
himself  to  warn  them  of  the  impending  danger. 
Immediately  all  was  activity.  The  work  stock 
were  brought,  and,  in  a  trice,  harnessed  to  the 
heavy  wagons.  The  mules  were  urged  forward 
with  shouts  and  cracking  of  whips,  and  soon  the 
whole  outfit  was  on  its  way  to  form  a  cordon 
around  the  town,  or,  at  least,  on  the  side  that  was 
most  likely  to  be  attacked. 

Mackenzie  rode  with  the  wagon-train  for  a 
8 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

short  distance,  then  branched  off  after  giving 
some  final  orders,  or  rather  suggestions,  for  any 
emergency  that  might  arise. 

"  So  long,"  he  said. 

"  So  long,"  said  the  driver  of  the  leading  team. 
(Whether  a  man  was  leaving  for  a  trip  across  the 
street  or  across  the  continent,  the  parting  words 
were,  invariably,  "  So  long.") 

Mackenzie  went  on  his  way,  skirting  the  town, 
keeping  his  eyes  and  ears  wide  open.  There 
was  nothing  within  hearing  to  indicate  that  the 
settlement  was  in  danger  of  attack  from  the 
dreaded  Indian.  The  teamsters  could  still  be 
heard  shouting  to  their  mules,  and  an  occasional 
creaking  squeak  from  the  wagons  broke  the  still- 
ness. The  sheriff  listened  in  vain  for  more  omi- 
nous sounds. 

"  The  reds  are  still  pretty  far  off,  or  they  are 
keeping  mighty  dark,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he 
put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  towards  one 
of  the  better-looking  houses  that  stood  on  a 
little  rise  some  distance  from  the  Main  Street 
settlement.  Messengers  had  been  sent  in  every 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

direction,  to  warn  sleeping  citizens,  and  all  had 
been  arranged  for  except  this  household,  one  of 
the  three  families  of  the  town. 

Mackenzie  rode  up  to  the  door  and,  without 
dismounting,  knocked. 

In  an  instant  there  was  a  sound  of  bustling,  for 
the  Westerner  sleeps  with  one  eye  open,  and  is 
ready  at  a  moment's  notice  for  anything  that  may 
occur. 

"  "Who's  there?  "  shouted  a  voice. 

"  Mackenzie,"  answered  the  sheriff. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  the  door  opened, 
and  a  man  stepped  out. 

"  Hello,  Worth!  "  said  the  sheriff.  "  You'd 
better  bring  the  wife  and  children  further  down. 
Harry  Hodson  just  came  down  the  trail  and  re- 
ports a  big  bunch  of  Indians  a  few  miles  up, 
and " 

But  Worth  did  not  wait  to  hear  any  more. 

"John,"  Worth  shouted  back  into  his  shack; 
"you  and  Ben  help  your  mother  pack  up  the 
bedding  and  take  care  of  the  baby.  We've  got 
to  be  lively.  You  know  what  to  do.  You 
see,  Mac,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  horseman, 
"  I  thought  I  might  as  well  get  things  started 
while  you  were  telling  me  about  these  hostiles." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  sheriff.  "  Good  scheme. 
You  might  as  well  saddle  up  and  come  along 
10 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

with  me  so  you  can  find  a  place  beforehand  for 
the  wife  and  kids." 

In  a  few  minutes  both  men  were  on  their  way 
to  the  centre  of  the  town :  Mackenzie,  to  send  out 
his  pickets  and  guards,  and  to  arrange  the  placing 
of  stock  and  wagons ;  Worth,  to  find  a  temporary- 
shelter  for  his  family.  The  boys,  John  and  Ben, 
were  left  behind  to  look  after  the  home,  pack  up 
the  goods,  catch  and  saddle  the  horses.  It  was  a 
seemingly  big  task  for  boys  of  ten  and  twelve, 
but  from  the  time  these  boys  were  able  to  walk 
they — in  common  with  other  boys  of  the  fron- 
tier— had  to  look  out  largely  for  themselves. 
They  were  strong,  sturdy  little  chaps.  John, 
the  elder,  was  his  father's  right-hand  man,  and 
when  Mr.  Worth  was  away  on  one  of  his  fre- 
quent freighting  trips,  John  was  often  called 
upon  to  take  care  of  the  family  in  emergencies 
much  like  the  present  one. 

In  this  frontier  town,  the  reports  of  bands  of 
hostile  Indians  coming  to  raid  and  kill  were  not 
uncommon.  The  single  man,  active,  mounted, 
armed  with  weapons  as  familiar  to  him  as  his 
right  hand,  had  no  fear  of  not  being  able  to  out- 
wit or  escape  the  enemy,  wily  as  the  redskins 
were.  In  fact,  the  Indians  themselves  were  well 
aware  of  the  ability  of  the  plainsmen  to  cope 
with  them  when  unhampered  by  w^omen  and 
11 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

children,  so  they  practically  never  began  hos- 
tilities until  they  could  get  their  white  enemies 
at  a  disadvantage.  The  few  families  were,  there- 
fore, their  especial  point  of  attack.  It  was  their 
helplessness  that  tempted  the  onslaught  and 
aroused  the  savage  instincts  of  these  marauders. 
When  the  head  of  the  family,  the  bread  winner, 
was  away,  the  dread  of  these  fearful,  relentless 
attacks  on  his  helpless  ones  abode  with  him  al- 
ways. The  mother  and  children,  left  at  home, 
lived  always  under  the  shadow  of  the  same  fear. 

John  and  his  brother,  therefore,  fully  under- 
stood the  danger  and  the  need  for  speedy  and 
careful  preparation.  They  had  often,  at  the 
warning  of  the  hostiles'  approach,  helped  their 
mother  make  a  fort  of  the  solid  log  house  by 
piling  up  the  scanty  furniture  and  bedding 
against  the  doors  and  windows,  leaving  only  loop- 
holes for  their  rifles;  and  though  the  present  situ- 
ation was  one  that  would  make  ordinary  boys 
useless  through  fear,  John  and  Ben,  on  the  con- 
trary, were  too  busy  to  worry;  they  knew  exactly 
what  was  to  be  done,  and  in  their  sturdy,  inde- 
pendent way  went  to  work  to  do  it. 

"  Say,  Ben,"  said  John,  as  they  went  toward 

the  corral  (the  circular  inclosure  in  which  the 

saddle  horses  were  kept),  "  I'll  bet  it's  just  those 

Indians  we  saw  across  the  river,  day  before  yes- 

12 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

terday,  while  we  were  hunting  Gannons'  horses. 
There  was  a  lot  of  squaws  in  that  bunch,  do  you 
remember? "  » 

"  That's  right/'  assented  Ben;  "  and  I'll  bet 
that  some  of  Gannons'  horses  were  in  that  lot 
of  Indian  ponies.  If  it  was  ten  dollars  reward 
instead  of  five,  it  might  have  been  worth  while 
to  run  the  risk  of  trying  to  find  out ;  but  five  dol- 
lars is  too  little  to  go  fooling  around  a  strange 
Indian's  camp  for." 

The  talk  was  ended  by  their  arrival  at  the 
corral  and  the  subsequent  busy  time  catching 
and  bridling  of  the  horses.  The  ponies  were 
then  led  to  the  door,  where  they  were  saddled. 
As  they  were  cinching  them  up — as  the  tighten- 
ing of  the  girths  is  called — Mr.  Worth  returned. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  whole  family  were  on  their 
way  to  the  Sebells',  one  of  the  other  Bismarck 
families  who  lived  on  Main  Street. 

In  town  they  found  all  activity.  Horsemen 
were  galloping  to  and  fro,  cattle,  horses,  and 
mules  dashed  in  and  out,  wagons  driven  at  full 
speed  crossed  and  recrossed  the  dusty  street.  As 
soon  as  they  were  installed  at  their  new-found 
shelter  and  their  household  goods  disposed  of, 
John  went  with  his  father  to  get  in  the  extra 
stock  of  horses  and  mules,  for,  next  to  his  family, 
these  are  the  freighter's  chief  care. 
13 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

They  found  their  stock  together,  as  was  ex- 
pected, for  animals,  particularly  horses,  that 
come  from  the  same  place,  always  stay  together. 
This  instinct  made  it  much  easier  for  the  herder 
to  gather  his  own,  when  there  were  many  ani- 
mals belonging  to  different  outfits  on  a  com- 
mon grazing  ground.  The  Worth  stock  was 
promptly  driven  inside  the  now  almost  complete 
circle  of  wagons,  and  there  tied. 

A  group  of  men  were  busy  piling  up  boxes, 
barrels,  and  bales,  taken  from  the  freighters' 
wagons,  into  the  semblance  of  breastworks.  As 
John  and  his  father  approached,  the  sheriff  came 
forward  and  joined  them. 

"  Family  all  right,  Worth  ?  "  he  asked,  kindly. 
"  I  sent  up  a  couple  of  men  to  help  you  and  they 
reported  that  your  shack  was  deserted  and  the 
place  locked  up  for  keeps.  You  didn't  waste  any 
time." 

"  That  was  good  of  you,  Mac,"  said  Mr. 
Worth,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  How  you're 
able  to  think  of  so  many  things  at  once,  beats  me. 
Yes,  we  got  out  in  pretty  quick  shape;  you  see 
my  boys,  Johnny  here  and  Ben,  are  first-rate 
hands  to  depend  on  in  an  emergency.  They  did 
pretty  near  the  whole  thing  to-night.  By  the 
way,  the  boys  were  hunting  horses  up  the  river 
day  before  yesterday,  and  saw  quite  a  large 
14 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

bunch   of  Indians  in  the  brush  below  Harry 
Hodson's." 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  something  about  this 
before  ? "  interrupted  the  sheriff,  turning  to 
John. 

"  Ben  and  I  have  seen  plenty  of  Indians,"  said 
John,  eagerly.  "  There  were  a  lot  of  squaws  in 
this  bunch,  so  I  didn't  believe  they  were  a  war 
party.  We  didn't  think  anything  more  about 
them  until  this  scare  came  up  to-night." 

"  Well,  you  have  got  a  good  head  on  you, 
young  man.  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right, 
and  this  may  be  a  false  alarm.  Still  Hodson 
generally  knows  what  he's  talking  about."  The 
sheriff  was  speaking  more  to  himself  than  to  his 
hearers.  "  I'm  glad  we've  got  a  lot  of  first-rate 
scrappers  with  us;  I  guess  the  reds  would  think 
twice  if  they  knew  what  they  were  running  up 
against." 

All  was  now  comparatively  quiet.  The  work 
and  strain  of  preparation  was  succeeded  by  a  time  ;-{ 
of  waiting,  a  period  of  suspense  that  was,  per-  3 
haps,  harder  to  bear  than  the  first  shock  of  the  -f[ 
unpleasant  news. 

John  and  his  father  returned  to  their  tem- 
porary home  to  calm  the  mother's  fears.     Mrs. 
Worth  had  the  family  rifle  ready,  and  Ben  had 
polished  and  oiled  every  cartridge  in  the  belt, 
15 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

so  that  they  would  slip  in  without  jamming.  Mr. 
Worth  shouldered  the  gun  and  went  out,  leaving 
the  boys  with  their  mother.  Though  all  was  now 
quiet  and  his  mother  and  brother  were  asleep, 
John  could  not  close  his  eyes.  He  understood, 
as  his  younger  brother  could  not,  the  danger  that 
menaced  the  household  and  the  town.  Death, 
swift,  by  knife  or  bullet,  or  slow  through  tor- 
ture, was  sure  to  come  if  that  band  of  Indians 
got  inside  the  inclosure.  He  had  heard  grus- 
some  tales  describing  the  treatment  that  the  sav- 
ages meted  out  to  their  prisoners  and  the  horror 
of  it  would  not  leave  him.  At  last  he  could 
stand  it  no  longer.  Quickly  he  rose  from  the 
heap  of  bedding  and  stole  to  the  door.  He  was 
fully  dressed,  and  his  little  six-shooter  still  slung 
on  his  left  hip  where  he  had  buckled  it  when  the 
sheriff  first  knocked  at  the  home  shack. 

All  was  still  outside,  except  for  the  occasional 
stamping  of  a  pony  or  the  distant  wail  of  a 
coyote.  Pickets  were  posted  just  over  the  rise 
to  the  north  of  the  town,  from  which  direction 
the  attack  was  expected.  They  were  to  give 
warning  of  the  approach  of  the  Indians  by  a  rifle 
shot. 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

Suddenly  there  was  borne  on  the  breeze  to  the 
waiting  men  the  sound  of  galloping  horses. 
Louder  it  grew,  then  fainter;  then  again  still 
louder.  So  the  sound  wavered,  but  ever  came 
nearer. 

The  watchers  sprang  to  their  feet,  rifles  ready, 
eyes  gleaming. 

"  Steady,  boys,"  said  the  calm  voice  of  Mac- 
kenzie. "  Wait  a  bit." 

Still  the  thumping  of  many  hoofs  approached 
nearer. 

What  had  become  of  the  pickets?  Had  they 
been  all  killed  with  the  enemy's  noiseless  arrows? 
Or  had  they  been  lured  away  beyond  hearing 
and  shot? 

Daylight  was  breaking;  the  enemy  could  now 
be  seen,  that  was  one  comfort.  And  as  they 
stood,  ears  alert,  eyes  strained,  their  nerves  keyed 
up  to  the  tensest  pitch,  awaiting  the  onslaught, 
that  ominous  noise  of  hoof-beats  came  ever 
nearer,  nearer,  nearer. 

Suddenly  a  horse's  head  appeared  above  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  then  another  and  another  until 
quite  a  score  or  more  were  in  plain  view.  They 
dashed  down  the  incline  toward  the  corral  of 
wagons.  But  they  were  all  riderless !  Presently 
two  riders  appeared.  They  shouted  a  greeting 
as  they  came  down  the  hill  and  explained  that 
2  17 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

they  were  of  the  1ST  bar  1ST  outfit  (that  is  to  say, 
their  brand  bore  these  marks:  £j). 

A  space  was  hastily  cleared  between  the 
wagons  to  allow  these  newcomers'  horses  to  enter 
the  in  closure;  but  it  was  too  late;  the  bunch 
parted,  turning  to  right  and  left.  The  two 
herders  also  separated  in  pursuit,  each  following 
a  bunch. 

Immediate  danger  over,  the  waiting  men  re- 
laxed their  extra  vigilance,  and  all  hands  watched 
the  efforts  of  the  two  herders  in  their  vain  at- 
tempts to  head  off  their  charges.  The  sheriff 
was  just  saying,  "  I  wish  some  of  you  fellows 
would  help  round  up  that  bunch;  we  want  to  get 
them  all  in  before  the  hostiles  show  up,"  when. 
a  third  horseman  appeared,  riding  like  the  wind. 

"  Say,  that  chap  has  got  a  fresh  horse,"  said 
"  Casino,"  one  of  the  freighters. 

The  new  arrival,  after  a  headlong  dash,  re- 
gardless of  ditches,  brush,  and  badger  holes,  suc- 
ceeded in  rounding  up  the  frightened  horses,  and 
with  the  help  of  the  herder,  drove  them  into 
camp.  A  similar  performance  soon  brought  in 
the  other  bunch. 

As  the  new  rider  trotted  in  through  the  gap, 
some  one  shouted :  "  What'll  you  take  for  that 
horse?  He's  a  regular  whirlwind." 

"  Yes,"  said  one  of  the  herders,  "  he's  a  dandy, 
18 


AN  INDIAN  ATTACK. 

isn't  he?  My  stock  would  have  got  away  if 
Johnny  Worth  hadn't  come  out  on  Baldy." 

"  So  it's  Johnny  Worth,  eh!  "  said  Bill  Smith. 
"  Good  work,  kid." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Johnny,  "  they're  only  worn-out, 
winded  plugs;  they  were  easy  for  Baldy.  He 
was  saddled  and  all  ready,"  the  boy  added  in  ex- 
planation. 

"Well  done,  Johnny,"  said  the  sheriff,  who 
had  once  before  that  night  praised  the  boy's 
pluck.  Then,  turning  to  the  group  about  him, 
"  Some  of  you  boys  had  better  get  breakfast," 
said  he;  "  there's  no  telling  when  that  war  party 
may  turn  up,  and  you  must  eat  now  when  you 
have  the  chance." 


19 


•t 
CHAPTEK    II. 

THE  YOUXG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

While  the  men  were  eating  (a  sufficient  num- 
ber being  left  to  keep  watch  and  guard)  in  one 
of  the  dance  halls,  which  was  hastily  impressed 
for  the  purpose,  the  herders  of  the  !N"  bar  N  out- 
fit were  questioned  as  to  their  knowledge  of  the 
Indians. 

They  reported  that  the  redskins  were  in  force 
and  were  coming  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the 
town.  That  while  they  were  guarding  their 
stock,  they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  an  Indian  near  them,  who  yelled  and 
waved  his  blanket,  and  finally  succeeded  in 
stampeding  the  animals.  They  started  off  at  a 
gallop  after  the  horses,  and  this  solitary  brave 
forthwith  disappeared. 

The  stock  stampeded  but  the  herders  stayed 
with  them,  riding  full  speed  over  all  sorts  of 
rough  country.  The  Indians  appeared  at  inter- 
vals in  pursuit  of  them,  and  added  to  the  con- 
fusion and  danger  by  keeping  up  a  running  fire. 
20 


THE  YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

The  herders  said  they  were  about  to  give  up 
the  attempt  to  keep  their  charges  out  of  the  sav- 
ages' hands  when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  town. 
"  Even  then,"  said  one  01  the  men,  called  Sing- 
ing Jim,  "  we  couldn't  have  corralled  the  beasts 
if  that  youngster  hadn't  chased  out  to  help  us  on 
a  fresh  horse,  and  a  fast  one  at  that." 

"  We'll  have  troubles  yet,"  said  the  other 
herder,  Calamity  Jake  he  was  called,  because  of 
his  ability  to  see  small  black  clouds  of  evil  a 
great  distance  off.  "  Plenty  of  trouble,  too,  in 
the  shape  of  Indians  on  the  warpath.  They 
were  not  far  behind  us  when  we  reached  these 
diggin's." 

"  What  became  of  your  wagons?  "  said  Harry 
Hodson,  a  mouthful  of  beans  interfering  some- 
what with  his  speech. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  they're  done  for.  Probably 
makin'  light  for  the  Indians  to  do  a  war  dance 
by,"  remarked  Singing  Jim,  cheerfully. 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  Mackenzie,  who  had  ap- 
peared in  time  to  hear  the  last;  "  they'll  not  show 
their  location  by  making  a  big  blaze  like — 

"  I  heard  a  shot  fired  from  over  the  hill," 
shouted  Johnny,  who  stuck  his  head  in  at  the 
door  that  moment.  "  Maybe  it's  one  of  the 
pickets." 

The  men  jumped  up  and  made  a  rush  for  the 
21 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

door.  The  herder,  Singing  Jim,  who  was  the 
last  man  out,  exclaimed  as  he  disappeared, 
"  Well,  if  that  kid  ain't  ubikkertous,  as  the 
States'  papers  say!  " 

Several  shots  were  now  heard  and  then  the 
pickets  topped  the  rise  and  made  a  break  down 
the  slope  to  the  town. 

The  enemy  was  close,but  still  invisible  behind 
the  ridge. 

The  men  lay  crouched  behind  their  barricade, 
silent,  alert,  ready  for  what  might  come.  The 
three  pickets  made  their  way  back  to  the  breast- 
works and  reported  that  the  advance  guard  had 
shown  itself  coming  down  a  coulie  half  a  mile 
away,  and  the  main  body,  probably  fifty  strong, 
was  straggling  after  when  the  pickets  last  looked 
back.  A  long  night  of  vigil  and  hurried  prepa- 
ration had  told  on  these  watchers  and  they  were 
anxious  to  begin  the  work  and  end  the  suspense. 
The  short  ten  minutes  which  elapsed  seemed  ten 
hours.  Then  twro  Indians  rode  to  the  top  of  the 
ridge  and  looked  down  upon  the  preparations  for 
their  reception.  They  were  a  long  rifle  shot  dis- 
tant and  the  defenders  had  no  ammunition  to 
spare.  Moreover,  if  unprovoked,  the  redskins 
might  go  without  firing  a  shot.  To  tell  the 
truth,  however,  especially  when  they  saw  the  un- 
likelihood of  making  a  successful  assault,  most 
32 


THE   YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

of  the  little  garrison  were  in  the  mood  to  feel 
disappointed  if  the  attack  ended  so  harmlessly. 

"  If  those  fellows  are  hard  up  for  a  fight," 
said  Big  Bill  Smith,  "maybe  they'll  tackle  us; 
but  I  never  saw  an  Indian  yet  that  would  ride 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  open  under  fire  even 
when  he  wanted  something  to  eat," — and  Bill 
knew  Indians. 

"  They  won't  leave  without  tryin'  us,"  said 
Casino.  "  You'll  see  if  I  ain't  right." 

A  moment  later  two  painted  and  befeathered 
savages  appeared  to  the  left,  and  rode  full  tilt 
along  the  hillside  in  direct  view  of  the  camp, 
yelling  and  waving  their  blankets  in  derision:  a 
tantalizing  sight  to  the  waiting  men. 

"  Keep  steady,  there,"  called  Mackenzie, 
sternly,  as  several  rifles  were  raised.  "  There's 
no  use  shooting  now;  they're  only  trying  to  draw 
our  fire  and  find  out  how  strong  we  are.  There'll 
be  more  presently.  Wait  for  them." 

A  few  minutes  later  half  a  dozen  braves  re- 
peated the  ruse.  The  flying  figures,  almost 
naked,  being  poor  targets,  the  fire  of  the  little 
garrison  was  still  reserved.  A  dozen  then  made 
the  run,  one  following  the  other,  at  regular 
intervals.  More  and  more  of  the  painted,  yell- 
ing, gesticulating  savages  followed,  dashing 
along  the  slope  in  single  file  and  disappearing 
23 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

over  the  ridge  to  the  right,  until  what  was  a 
short  line  became  a  procession. 

Presently  they  began  to  creep  down  the  hill, 
each  rider  advancing  beyond  the  one  preceding 
him,  all  yelling  epithets  of  contempt  as  they 
came  ever  nearer  the  silent  garrison. 

This  was  the  regular  mode  of  Indian  attack; 
it  afforded  them  an  opportunity  to  fire  and  yet 
gave  their  enemy  a  very  poor  chance  to  do  any 
damage. 

A  desultory  firing  began;  each  Indian  letting 
go  his  reins,  fired  his  rifle  as  best  he  could  as  he 
rushed  past.  The  shooting  was  naturally  bad, 
for  there  was  no  chance  to  take  careful  aim.  If 
the  savages  planned,  however,  to  draw  the  fire  of 
the  besieged  and  so  determine  their  strength,  the 
scheme  failed,  for  not  a  shot  was  fired  from  the 
camp,  though  the  provocation  was  great. 

The  rushing  line  came  closer  and  closer.  The 
colors  of  the  war  paint  and  fluttering  feathers 
could  now  be  plainly  seen.  It  was  within  easy 
range,  but  still  the  fire  was  withheld.  Each 
Indian  had  worked  himself  into  the  frenzy  which 
is  so  necessary  a  part  of  a  brave's  courage. 

As  the  distance  was  lessened,  the  savages'  aim 

became  better,   and  several  bullets  struck  the 

wagons  and  the  barricade.     The  situation  began 

to  be  interesting;  any  shot  might  now  reach  its 

24 


THE   YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

human  target,  and  the  temptation  to  return  the 
fire  was  almost  irresistible. 

But  the  sheriff  only  said,  "  Not  yet." 

The  bullets  were  striking  freely  and  the  yell- 
ing enemy  were  within  easy  revolver  range. 

At  last  Mackenzie,  who  showed  signs  of  sup- 
pressed eagerness,  said,  just  loud  enough  to  be 
heard :  "  Boys,  don't  shoot  when  your  man  is 
opposite;  wait  till  he  has  passed,  then  aim  at  his 
back  and  shoot  straight.  You  can't  hit  him 
otherwise.  Ready  now.  Fire !  " 

This  was  not  a  military  company,  but  a  band 
of  frontiersmen,  which  a  common  danger  united 
under  the  leadership  of  one  man.  The  volley 
which  followed,  therefore,  was  not  one  of  pre- 
cision, for  every  man  took  his  time  and  pulled 
the  trigger  when  he  was  ready. 

The  Indians,  anticipating  a  return  fire,  rode 
by  at  full  speed,  their  bodies  hugging  their  horses 
closely.  They  made  difficult  targets,  so  the  first 
few  shots  did  nothing  more  than  kill  and  disable 
a  horse  or  two;  but  soon  the  fire  became  more 
rapid  and  accurate.  A  big  buck  was  seen  to  fall 
out  of  his  saddle,  another  was  thrown  violently 
from  a  wounded  horse,  several  were  hit  in  arms 
and  legs.  The  yelling  diminished  and  the  line 
moved  further  up  the  slope,  scattering  as  it  went. 

As  the  file,  now  rather  scattered,  turned  the 
25 


'"^^ — . 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

ridge  at  the  right,  firing  as  it  moved,  a  young 
buck,  in  full  war  regalia  and  mounted  on  a  beau- 
tiful bay  pony,  bounded  into  view.  He  dashed 
out  of  the  circle  of  Indians,  and  rode  boldly  down 
toward  the  white  men,  yelling  defiance. 

He  was  a  young  chief  endeavoring  to  earn  the 
approval  of  his  tribe  and  the  consequent  advance- 
ment and  influence,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  Sioux.  Down  the  hill  he  came  with  a  rush 
right  into  the  thick  of  the  fire,  and  yet,  though 
the  bullets  whistled  on  all  sides  of  him,  he  was 
unharmed.  Nearer  and  nearer  he  drew,  until 
he  reached  a  point  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
the  white  man's  guns.  Then  he  stopped,  turned 
his  pony  half-way  round  and  flourished  his  re- 
volver derisively,  yelling  imprecations  at  the 
garrison  the  while.  He  then  fired  a  shot  which 
came  so  close  to  John,  that  he  was  sure  he  could 
feel  the  wind  of  it — the  sound  was  unmistakable. 

After  this  reckless  feat,  the  young  chief 
trotted  slowly  back  to  his  own  people,  but  kept 
his  face  always  towards  his  enemies.  The  daring 
of  the  deed  took  both  sides  by  surprise,  and  for 
a  time  hardly  a  shot  was  fired  by  white  man  or 
red.  It  was  a  tribute  to  the  young  brave's  cour- 
age and  bravado. 

It  would  not  do,  however,  to  let  him  escape 
unharmed.  Other  warriors  might  be  inspired  to 
26 


THE  YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

emulate  the  rash  act,  and  if  they  took  it  into  their 
heads  to  rush  the  stockade  there  would  certainly 
be  much  loss  of  life. 

The  Indians  now  began  firing  again,  covering 
as  well  as  possible  their  comrade's  retreat.  Those 
behind  the  barricade  also  woke  up. 

"Shoot  that  fellow,  boys,"  cried  Big  Bill. 
"  He  mustn't  get  away  unhurt.  We've  got  to 
discourage  that  sort  of  thing." 

Every  man  aimed  at  the  fleeing  Indian,  but 
still  he  rode  with  his  face  towards  his  foe,  gestur- 
ing defiance.  The  feathers  in  his  war-bonnet 
fluttered  in  the  wind,  and  the  quirt  hung  on  his 
upraised  right  wrist  swayed  with  the  motion  of 
his  pony. 

Of  a  sudden  a  single  rifle  spoke  from  the  white 
man's  intrenchments,  and,  in  an  instant,  the 
young  chief  was  changed  from  a  superb  living 
bronze  statue  to  a  lump.  He  fell,  clawing  at  his 
saddle  and  yelling  shrilly.  His  well-trained  war 
pony  slowed  down  and  circled  back  to  where  his 
master  lay. 

All  this  occupied  much  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  it. 

During  this  distraction,  half  a  do/en  Indians, 

who  had  been  unhorsed,  rose  from  their  brush 

coverts  and  ran  for  their  lives  to  gain  the  more 

substantial   refuge   which   the   ridge    afforded. 

27 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

Four  escaped,  but  two  were  dropped  in  their 
tracks  before  they  could  reach  the  shelter. 

Though  bullets  had  dropped  all  around  the 
white  men,  none  had  been  hit. 

"Had  enough?"  said  the  sheriff.  "Found 
the  camp  stronger  than  you  thought,  eh?  " 

Such  seemed  to  be  the  case,  for,  after,  a  long 
parley,  wrhich  was  held  discreetly  out  of  range, 
the  band  disappeared,  leaving  their  dead  on  the 
prairie. 

An  attempt  had  been  made  to  rescue  the 
fallen,  but  the  risk  was  too  great,  and  it  was  given 
up. 

The  Indians  had  been  gone  some  time  before 
the  little  garrison  crept  carefully  from  under 
cover,  for  the  Sioux  were  notoriously  tricky  and 
their  apparent  departure  might  simply  be  a  ruse 
to  put  their  enemies  off  their  guard. 

Finally,  however,  the  sheriff  turned  to  his 
men.  "  Casino,"  said  he,  "  you,  Singing  Jim, 
and  Calamity  Jake  follow  their  trail  and  see  what 
becomes  of  them.  If  they  start  to  come  back 
you  hump  yourselves  and  let  us  know.  You'd 
better  go  along,  Hodson,  and  look  after  your 
stock." 

The  men  appointed  saddled  up  and  started  out 
without  delay.  The  good  wishes  of  those  re- 
maining went  with  them.  It  was  a  perilous 
28 


THE  YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

undertaking,  for  there  was  no  telling  where  the 
war  party  might  be  or  what  they  might  do. 

After  the  scouts  had  left,  guards  were  set  to 
keep  watch  and  prevent  a  surprise,  though  it  was 
thought  that  there  was  little  danger  of  an  attack 
by  daylight. 

The  sheriff  and  the  rest  of  the  men  began  to 
count  noses,  not  only  of  men  but  of  stock,  for  it 
might  be  that  in  the  excitement  some  one  or 
some  animal  had  been  hit  unknown  to  the  others. 
In  fact,  it  would  be  a  marvel  if  one  bullet  had 
not  reached  its  mark,  since,  at  times,  they  had 
dropped  around  like  hail. 

All  were  found  intact,  but  several  of  the 
wagons  had  been  pretty  badly  riddled. 

A  barrel  of  molasses  which  rested  in  one  of 
the  wagons  was  punctured  by  a  45-calibre  bullet, 
and  the  sticky  stuff  leaked  down  on  and  in  a 
trunk  marked  "  Charles  R.  Green,  Boston." 

"  Belongs  to  a  tenderfoot  who  got  stalled  with 
the  rest  of  his  outfit  near  the  railroad,"  Casino 
had  explained,  when  some  one  remarked  on  the 
strange  object. 

Certainly  the  "  tenderfoot  "  was  having  rather 
a  novel  introduction  to  the  hardships  of  frontier 
life.  As  Charley  Green  said  afterwards,  "  he 
was  stuck  on  himself  for  fair." 

Mr.  "Worth  and  John  now  thought  of  the  f am- 
29 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

ily  at  the  Sebells',  and  at  the  first  lull  they  made 
their  way  back  between  wagons,  around  and 
through  bunches  of  cattle,  mules,  and  horses  to 
the  house.  It  was  hard  to  tell  which  was  most 
glad  to  see  the  other,  but  a  stranger  coming  in 
would  not  have  realized  that  this  was  the  return 
of  a  father  and  son  after  several  hours'  exposure 
to  all  the  perils  of  Indian  warfare.  There  were 
no  tears  of  joy,  no  outward  demonstration  of 
happiness.  The  frontiersman  had  learned,  per- 
haps from  the  Indian,  perhaps  from  stern  nature 
herself,  to  keep  his  feelings  to  himself.  Even 
John  and  Ben  were  not  demonstrative. 

"  I  suppose  you  did  'em  up?  "  said  the  latter  to 
his  more  fortunate  brother.  "  How  many  were 
there  in  the  party?  " 

John  dropped  to  the  floor,  for  the  experience 
of  the  night  before  was,  at  least,  trying.  "  Sure 
we  did,"  he  answered.  "  They  didn't  come  till 
daylight  and  so  Avere  in  plain  sight,  while  we 
were  under  cover,  see  ?  Same  bunch  we  saw  the 
other  day,  I  guess.  Phew!  I'm  tired." 

He  had  hardly  got  the  words  out  of  his  mouth 
before  he  was  sound  asleep,  and,  not  long  after, 
his  father  was  also  in  the  land  where  none  but 
phantom  enemies  are  seen. 

The  Indians  evidently  had  enough,  for  they 
disappeared,  taking  with  them,  however,  some  of 
30 


THE   YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

the  N  bar  !NT  stock.  The  two  herders  accepted 
the  situation,  each  in  his  own  fashion. 

"  I  told  you  so/'  groaned  Calamity  Jake. 
"  These  pesky  Indians  ought  to  be  wiped  off  the 
face  of  the  earth." 

Singing  Jim,  however,  merely  grinned,  and 
said  as  he  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair :  "  Well, 
I'm  glad  this  thatch  is  not  decorating  some  Sioux 
tepee.  I  think  it  looks  better  on  me  than  it 
would  on  a  lodge  pole." 

After  this,  things  went  on  in  much  the  same 
old  way  in  the  little  frontier  town,  for  the  In- 
dians did  not  venture  another  attack. 

In  spite  of  its  small  size,  Bismarck  was  a  busy 
place  and  was  the  distributing  point  for  a  large 
unsettled  territory. 

Freighters  came  in  from  points  on  the  distant 
railroad  with  provisions  for  the  cattlemen,  trap- 
pers, and  miners,  and  the  constantly  changing 
population  of  the  town.  Their  wagons  were  in 
long  trains,  one  hitched  to  the  other,  the  whole 
drawn  by  many  teams  of  mules  and  driven  by  one 
man,  who  rode  the  near  mule  next  the  first  wagon, 
controlling  his  team  by  a  single  "  jerk  line," 
which  ran  to  the  front  near  animal.  This  mule, 
who  was  picked  for  his  intelligence,  knew  that 
one  pull  on  the  line  meant  turn  left,  and  two 
short  jerks  indicated  that  a  right  turn  was 
31 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

wanted;  moreover,  lie  knew  just  how  wide  a 
sweep  to  make  to  clear  an  obstruction. 

When  the  trapper  came  to  town  to  bring  in  his 
pelts  for  shipment  East,  and  to  get  a  supply  of 
pork,  beans,  and  coffee — his  standbys  in  the  mat- 
ter of  diet — and  when  the  cowboy  raced  in  with 
a  couple  of  pack  ponies  to  get  supplies  for  his 
outfit,  the  rare  opportunity  was  always  taken  ad- 
vantage of  to  enjoy  what  pleasures  the  town 
afforded.  The  gamblers  and  saloon  keepers  did 
a  thriving  business,  though  a  perilous  one,  for,  on 
the  slightest  provocation,  the  frontiersman  was 
ever  ready  with  his  shooting  irons. 

It  was  only  a  few  weeks  after  the  Indian  attack 
described  before  the  parching  heat  of  summer 
began  to  give  way  before  the  dreaded  wintry 
breath  of  the  J^orth. 

John  and  Ben,  when  they  went  out  to  guard 
their  father's  stock,  gave  up  their  daily  swim- 
ming in  the  river  and  took  up  horse  racing  in- 
stead; and  many  a  race  was  hotly  contested.  The 
boy,  however,  who  rode  Baldy,  the  big  bay,  al- 
ways won. 

Mr.  Worth,  as  has  been  noted  before,  was  a 
freighter;  he  was  also  a  miner,  opening  up  mines 
of  coal  in  the  deep-cut  river  banks,  the  coal  so 
obtained  being  sold  to  the  government  for  the 
fort  garrisons. 

32 


THE   YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

On  these  coal-prospecting  trips  he  usually 
went  alone,  carrying  on  his  back  the  bare  neces- 
saries of  life:  a  blanket,  perhaps  a  string  of 
bacon,  a  bag  of  beans,  and  a  little  coffee,  besides 
the  never-absent  rifle  and  revolver. 

Late  in  the  fall,  Mr.  Worth  set  out  on  a  pro- 
specting trip.  The  garrisons  of  Fort  Lincoln  and 
other  outposts  situated  up  the  river  were  clamor- 
ing for  more  fuel,  and  no  time  must  be  lost  if 
they  were  to  be  supplied  before  the  heavy  snows 
set  in. 

John  went  with  his  father  a  half  day's  journey, 
helping  to  carry  his  equipment.  They  started 
out  afoot,  and  the  mother,  holding  the  baby  in 
her  arms,  watched  them. 

"So  long,"  called  back  Mr.  Worth,  as  he 
started  out. 

"  So  long,"  returned  his  wife. 

At  dark,  John  returned  and,  in  his  self-suffi- 
cient way,  began  to  prepare  for  the  night.  He 
and  Ben  each  saddled  a  horse,  of  which  there 
were  several  tied  to  a  pole,  and  set  out  to  round 
up  the  "  saddle  band  "  (as  the  ponies  which  were 
reserved  for  riding  were  called),  and  the  work 
stock  of  mules  and  pack  horses.  They  were  not 
far  off,  nibbling  the  tufted  buffalo  grass,  and 
soon  were  turned  toward  the  corral,  the  boys 
riding  on  either  side,  ready  to  head  off  any 
3  33 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

animal  that  showed  a  disposition  to  separate  or 
lead  the  "  bunch  "  astray. 

The  stock  safely  disposed  of,  John  and  Ben 
went  back  to  the  shack,  but  were  promptly  sent 
out  again  for  wood  and  water. 

"  Let's  get  a  lot  of  wood,"  said  Ben,  "  for  it's 
colder  than  blazes.  Hope  the  governor  will 
find  a  good  place  to  turn  in  to-night." 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right,"  replied  John,  between 
grunts,  for  the  load  of  wood  he  was  carrying  was 
both  heavy  and  bulky. 

An  hour  or  so  later,  the  windows  and  door 
were  barred,  the  embers  of  the  fire  scattered, 
and  all  hands  turned  in  for  the  night.  The  beds 
were  really  bunks  built  into  the  wall,  and  were 
not  exactly  luxurious,  spring  mattresses  being 
quite  unknown;  but  the  boys  found  them  com- 
fortable, and  in  a  minute  or  two  were  rolled  in 
their  blankets  like  great  cocoons  and  fast  asleep. 

Mr.  Worth  was  not  expected  back  for  several 
weeks,  for  his  journey  was  to  be  a  long  one  and 
subject  to  many  delays  on  account  of  bad 
weather  and,  worse,  Indians. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  he  had  left  that 
Charley  Green  came  up  to  where  the  boys  sat 
on  the  doorstep  braiding  whips  or  quirts. 

"  Hullo,  kids,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Mackenzie  wants 
34 


THE  YOUNG  BRAVE'S  DARING. 

— what  are  you  doing?  "  His  curiosity  made 
him  forget  his  errand. 

"  Braidin'  a  rope  to  hang  a  couple  of  horse 
thieves,"  said  John,  facetiously.  "  What  did 
you  think  we  were  doing,  branding  calves?  " 

Even  the  kids  made  fun  of  the  "  tenderfoot," 
who  was  really  a  good  fellow,  just  out  from  an 
Eastern  college,  but  densely  ignorant  as  far  as 
Western  ways  went.  He  saw  he  was  being 
laughed  at,  and  so  hastened  to  come  back  to  his 
errand. 

"  Mr.  Mackenzie  wants  some  old  clothes, 
blankets,  and  other  warm  things  for  a  man  who 
turned  up  just  now,  half-dressed.  He's  almost 
frozen.  "White  man,  too,"  he  added. 

In  a  few  minutes  John  and  Tenderfoot  Green 
reached  the  sheriff's  shack,  bearing  clothes  and 
blankets.  The  crowd  that  stood  before  the  door 
parted  and  allowed  them  to  pass. 

In  the  far  corner  of  the  room,  leaning  over  the 
fire,  sat  a  man  who  turned  his  head  as  John  and 
Green  came  in. 

"  Why,  it's  my  father!  "  cried  John. 


35 


CHAPTEE   III. 

A   NAKKOW    ESCAPE. 

The  boy  rushed  forward  and  asked  what  had 
happened. 

The  small,  rough  living-room  in  the  sheriff's 
shack  was  soon  crowded  with  men  who  pressed 
forward  eager  to  hear  the  story. 

When  Mr.  Worth  was  rested  somewhat  and 
thoroughly  warmed  through,  he  began : 

"  After  leaving  home,  I  travelled  for  two  days 
and  nothing  happened.  There  were  plenty  of 
Indian  signs  about,  marks  of  moccasined  feet  and 
prints  of  unshod  horses'  hoofs." 

"  Where  were  you  bound?  "  asked  some  one. 

"  Up  the  river  near  Fort  Stevenson.  Got  a 
lcoal  mine  up  there,  you  know,"  the  narrator  an- 
swered. "  Well,  I  kept  a  pretty  sharp  lookout 
for  hostiles — and  all  the  Indians  are  hostile 
around  Fort  Stevenson — but  up  to  the  time  I'm 
going  to  tell  you  about  I  didn't  see  any.  I  fol- 
lowed the  old  trails  made  by  the  buffalo  and  deer 
across  the  prairie,  and  did  my  best  to  cover  up 
36 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 


my  own  tracks — wore  moccasins  till  the  cacti 
cut  'em  too  much,  then  shifted  to  boots.  Of 
course  boots  made  a  much  clearer  print  and 
would  give  me  away  sure  if  they  were  seen."  ,v; 

"Why?"  whispered  Tenderfoot  Green  to 
Casino. 

"  Because,  you  chump,"  retorted  Casino,  "  the 
Indians  never  wear  boots,  so  they  know  right 
away  when  they  see  marks  of  heel  and  sole  that 
a  white  man  has  been  that  way.  See  ?  " 

Worth  continued,  without  noticing  this  whis- 
pered colloquy :  "  I  was  getting  nearer  and 
nearer  the  river  every  minute,  and  I  knew  that 
when  I  got  there  my  chances  of  getting  through 
all  right  would  be  better,  for  the  brush  and  banks 
would  afford  the  cover  that  the  prairie  lacked." 

His  hearers  nodded  their  heads  understand- 
ingly,  and  even  Tenderfoot  Green  seemed  to 
take  in  the  situation. 

"  The  wind  was  getting  pretty  keen,  and  I  was 
afraid  it  would  snow;  if  it  did,  I  knew  my  trail 
would  be  as  plain  as  a  column  of  smoke  in  a  clear 
sky,  so  I  hustled  for  the  river  at  a  good  pace.  In 
spite  of  my  hurry,  though,  I  managed  to  keep  a 
sharp  lookout  for  Indians.  As  I  topped  every  rise 
I  took  a  good  survey  of  everything  in  view,  and  it 
was  well  I  did,  for  about  dusk  I  reached  the  crest 
of  a  low  hill,  and  on  glancing  over  saw  an  Indian 
37 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

village.  It  lay  directly  in  my  path,  not  far  from 
the  river.  It  was  still  too  light  to  attempt  to  go 
round  it,  so  I  lay  down  behind  some  sage  brush 
and  watched  what  was  going  on.  The  village, 
which  contained  about  fifty  tepees,  was  placed 
within  easy  distance  of  the  river  and  was  well 
supplied  with  cottonwood." 

"Used  the  cottonwood  for  fuel,  I  suppose?" 
broke  in  Green. 

"  Yes,  and  the  green  bark  to  feed  the  horses 
on  in  heavy  snowy  weather,"  volunteered  Mac- 
kenzie. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Worth,"  apologized  Tender- 
foot, "  I  didn't  mean  to  interrupt." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Worth.  "  A  lot  of 
squaws  were  busy  doing  men's  work,  as  is  the  way 
of  the  poor  things,  scraping  hides  that  were 
staked  on  the  ground,  mending  buffalo-skin 
tepees,  pounding  berries,  carrying  wood  and 
water.  Some  were  busy  with  easier  jobs,  such 
as  making  deerskin  clothes  and  ornamenting 
moccasins  with  beads.  I  could  see  only  a  few 
bucks;  the  others  were  probably  off  on  a  hunt. 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

There  was  danger  in  that,  for  if  they  found  my 
trail  on  their  way  back  to  camp  they  would  of 
course  follow  it,  and  then — well,  I  should  be 
lucky  to  come  out  of  it  alive." 

The  listening  men  began  to  show  signs  of  im- 
patience. All  this  was  an  old  story  to  them; 
they  wanted  to  hear  the  end  of  the  tale,  and  how 
he  came  to  be  in  such  a  plight. 

"  "Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  said 
Worth,  beginning  to  realize  that  he  was  telling 
much  that  was  obvious  to  most  of  his  hearers, 
"  while  I  lay  there,  planning  and  idly  watching 
the  Indian  camp,  the  hunting  party  was  actually 
returning.  Suddenly  I  felt  the  weight  of  a  man 
on  my  back.  I  struggled  and  fought,  and  finally 
threw  him  off.  Jumping  to  my  feet,  I  faced  two 
savages  who  had  come  in  advance  of  the  main 
party  and  had  stolen  on  me  unawares.  Both 
now  rushed  at  me,  but  I  dodged  one  and  tripped 
the  other.  Before  I  could  finish  the  man  I  had 
thrown,  the  first  was  at  me  again.  Loaded  as  I 
was  by  my  pack,  I  was  soon  fagged.  My  gun 
had  been  taken  by  the  redskin  when  he  fell  on 
me.  Why  he  didn't  use  it  on  me  I  cannot  under- 
stand— perhaps  I  didn't  give  him  time.  Now 
both  of  them  jumped  for  me,  and  try  as  I  might 
I  could  not  dodge  or  disable  them.  I  had  al- 
ready begun  to  fear  that  the  game  was  up,  when 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 


I  saw  a  whole  bunch  of  Indians,  the  rest  of  the 
hunting  party,  coming  along  the  trail. 

"  There  wasn't  any  use  fighting  a  mob  like 
that,  so  I  stopped  struggling,  let  my  captors  hold 
me,  and  waited  for  whatever  might  come. 

"  The  redskins  crowded  around  me,  and  I 
thought  that  my  time  had  come. 

" '  Stev'son,  you  come  in,'  says  one  brave. 
'  Hoss,  pony,  you  got  'em  ? '  calls  out  another  big 
scowling  savage.  I  shook  my  head. 

"  Then  I  caught  sight  of  a  face  I  knew — 
old  Chief  Looking  Glass.  (I  warmed  him  up  with 
coffee  once  when  he  was  near  frozen  to  death. 
Indians  will  do  most  anything  for  a  cup  of 
coffee.)  He  pushed  forward  through  the  crowd 
and  shook  hands  with  me.  I  could  see  he  was 
trying  to  get  his  men  to  separate  and  leave  us, 
but  it  wasn't  any  sort  of  use;  they  pressed 
around,  and  it  was  very  evident  that  they  wanted 
my  pack.  Looking  Glass  finally  started  alone 
towards  the  camp,  calling  to  his  braves  to  come 
along,  but  this  plan  didn't  work  at  all;  for  the 
minute  he  got  out  of  sight  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill  the  thieving  gang  began  to  strip  me.  There 
was  no  use  resisting;  they  were  too  many  for  me. 
Before  I  knew  where  I  was  I  was  stark  naked, 
except  for  a  few  rags.  Even  my  boots  were 
yanked  off.  We  were  almost  in  the  village  by 
40 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

this  time,  for  I  had  been  pulled  and  pushed  over 
the  crest  and  down  the  slope  of  the  hill.  My 
tormentors  then  left  me  and  began  to  divide  my 
outfit,  so  I  crawled  off,  shivering  and  sore, 
anxious  to  get  out  of  sight  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Wasn't  it  cold?  "  said  Tenderfoot  Green. 

"  Rather,"  said  Mr.  Worth,  a  grim  smile  show- 
ing on  his  weather-beaten  face.  "  A  man  does 
not  go  tramping  across  the  bare  prairie  in 
weather  like  this  dressed  in  a  few  rags,  bare- 
footed, and  feel  as  if  he  was  in  a  hot  spring.  It 
was  fully  as  cold  as  it  is  now,  and  this  is  a  pretty 
sharp  day."  He  shivered  at  the  mere  remem- 
brance, while  his  listeners  gave  a  general  laugh 
at  the  simplicity  of  the  question. 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  blanket  and  mocca- 
sins? "  asked  Green,  anxious  to  divert  the  crowd's 
attention. 

He  pointed  at  the  articles  that  Worth  seemed 
to  be  guarding  with  unnecessary  care. 

"  These  here  blanket  and  moccasins  saved  my 
life,"  continued  the  latter.  "  As  I  was  pushing 
along  I  heard  a  woman's  voice  calling.  I  turned 
and  saw  a  squaw  running  after  me  with  a  blanket 
and  a  pair  of  moccasins  in  her  hands.  '  Looking 
Glass  blanket  and  moccasins,'  she  said,  as  she 
handed  them  to  me.  Then  she  turned  timidly 
and  ran  back  to  the  camp. 
41 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

"  It  was  almost  dark  now,  and  growing  colder 
every  minute.  I  put  on  the  moccasins,  wrapped 
the  blanket  around  me,  though  it  smelled 
strong  of  Indian,  and  set  out  at  a  dog-trot  in  the 
direction  of  a  wagon  trail.  If  I  could  reach  that 
I  might  be  lucky  enough  to  strike  a  white  man's 
camp  or  a  freighter's  outfit,  and  then  I  should 
be  all  right. 

"  I  travelled  all  that  night,  keeping  in  the  right 
direction  by  a  sort  of  instinct  that  my  knowledge 
of  the  lay  of  the  land  gave  me.  It  was  a  pretty 
tough  journey  though,  I  can  tell  you.  I  had  to 
fight  hard  to  keep  off  the  sleepy  feeling  that 
comes  before  freezing,  and  for  hour  after  hour  I 
dragged  myself  along  numb  and  aching  with  the 
cold,  but  hoping  against  all  reason  and  proba- 
bility that  I  might  run  across  some  of  the  boys 
before  it  was  too  late.  Toward  daybreak  I  must 
have  got  kinder  lonely,  for  I  lost  track  of  things, 
and  only  came  to  myself  in  the  freighters'  camp 
that  I  had  run  into  half  asleep." 

He  paused  here,  and  John  saw  that  his  eyes 
were  half  closed  and  his  head  nodding.  The 
ordeal  had  told  on  even  his  sturdy  health. 

In  a  thick,  sleepy  voice  he  added :  "  Ask  Jim 
"White ;  he  knows  the  rest — he  brought  me  in." 

Jim  "White  could  add  little  to  the  story.  "Worth 
came  into  his  camp,  he  explained,  more  dead 
42 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

than  alive  and  "  clean  out  of  his  head."  He  and 
his  partner  had  cared  for  him  and  brought  him 
to  town  as  fast  as  the  teams  could  go. 

John's  father  was  taken  over  to  his  own  shack, 
where  his  wife  greeted  him  like  one  come  back 
from  the  dead.  Under  her  good  nursing  he  re- 
covered from  his  terrible  experience  in  a  marvel- 
lously short  time  and  became  again  his  own 
sturdy  self.  The  frontiersman  must  of  necessity 
be  possessed  of  an  iron  constitution,  for  he  must 
be  able  to  endure  hardships  of  all  kinds — intense 
heat  and  piercing  cold,  hunger  and  thirst,  fatigue 
and  pain,  that  would  either  kill  an  ordinary  man 
outright  or  cripple  him  for  life. 

It  was  with  inward  dread  that  the  little  family 
watched  its  head  start  off  again,  after  a  few 
weeks'  stay  in  town.  Outwardly,  however, 
cheerfulness,  almost  indifference,  was  mani- 
fested. This  time  he  went  with  a  party  which 
was  going  in  the  same  direction ;  the  danger  was, 
consequently,  not  so  great.  Then,  too,  the  cold 
weather  kept  the  Indians  pretty  close  to  their 
own  camps,  and  as  the  locations  of  these  were 
generally  known,  they  could  be  easily  avoided. 

The  boys'  hearts  were  gladdened  by  the  news 
that,  perhaps,  the  home  shack  would  be  aban- 
doned in  the  spring,  when  their  father  returned. 
43 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

If  so,  the  whole  family  would  "  hit  the  trail  "  to 
the  north  and  \vest. 

Up  to  this  time  the  Worth  boys  had  been  town 
dwellers,  though  in  these  days  Bismarck  could 
hardly  be  dignified  even  by  the  name  of  village. 
John  and  Ben,  in  common  with  the  few  other 
boys,  had  enjoyed  the  comparatively  tame  pleas- 
ures afforded  by  the  town  and  the  surrounding 
prairie.  All  large  game  had  been  driven  west, 
and  only  prairie  dogs,  gophers,  coyotes,  and  oc- 
casionally wolves  remained;  these  and  the  birds 
the  boys  used  to  shoot  at  day  after  day  with  their 
ever-ready  revolvers.  The  sport  in  the  river  was 
not  all  that  could  be  wished  for  either,  for  the 
water  was  muddy  and  the  bottom  was  full  of 
quicksands.  And  if  summer  lacked  diversions, 
winter  was  a  still  more  uninteresting  season,  in 
that  the  pleasures  were  fewer  and  the  discomforts 
greater. 

It  was  therefore  with  great  glee  that  John  and 
Ben  looked  forward  to  this  pilgrimage.  A  hilly 
country  was  to  be  visited,  where  game  of  all  sorts 
abounded,  where  clear  streams  were  plenty,  and 
where  new  sports  of  all  kinds  were  in  prospect. 
Marvellous  tales  of  trapping  beaver,  and  hunting 
antelope,  bear,  and  even  buffalo,  were  brought  in 
by  hunters,  so  the  boys  were  wild  to  enjoy  these 
new  pleasures. 

44 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

The  Government  was  trying  to  confine  the  In- 
dians to  the  reservations  that  had  been  set  apart 
for  them,  but  the  redskins  had  been  accustomed 
to  roam  over  the  country  at  will,  to  follow  the 
game  wherever  it  went,  to  make  war  upon  each 
other  whenever  they  felt  like  it  or  needed  horses; 
so  they  resented  any  attempt  to  interfere  with 
their  entire  freedom,  and  turned  fiercely  on  their 
white  foes  wherever  they  found  them,  singly  or 
in  camps  and  settlements.  The  Government,  in 
order  to  better  protect  its  citizens,  erected  at  in- 
tervals outposts  garrisoned  by  troops. 

There  being  no  railroads  across  the  continent 
at  this  time,  goods  of  all  kinds  had  to  be  carried 
in  wagons  from  the  nearest  railroad  station  to  the 
fort  or  point  of  distribution.  The  supply  of  fuel, 
too,  was  a  matter  of  great  importance.  It  was  in 
the  main  a  treeless  country  and  wood  was  scarce. 
The  early  prospectors  and  pioneers  had  noticed 
the  outcroppings  of  coal  from  the  deep-cut  river 
banks,  but  little  advantage  was  taken  of  this 
store  of  fuel  till  the  forts  were  established  and 
the  little  steamboats  began  to  ply  up  and  down 
the  Missouri  loaded  deep  with  skins  and  buffalo 
hides. 

Mr.  Worth  was  one  of  the  first  to  see  the  value 
of  these  coal  veins,  and  he  was  a  leader  in  devel- 
oping the  mineral  resources  of  the  section.  He 
45 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

opened  and  worked  mines  as  near  the  different 
outposts  as  possible  and  at  convenient  points  for 
the  supply  of  coal  to  the  river  boats. 

The  Eastern  railroads  were  stretching  their 
long  steel  arms  westward,  and  they  also  needed 
to  be  supplied  with  food  for  their  furnaces. 

Mr.  Worth  had  contracted  with  these  coal  con- 
sumers to  open  mines  which,  when  in  good  run- 
ning order,  were  to  be  turned  over  to  them  to 
work.  In  order  to  do  this  it  was  necessary  to 
travel  from  place  to  place,  starting  the  work  at 
intervals  along  the  proposed  line  so  as  to  be  ready 
when  the  "  steel  trail "  actually  reached  them. 
It  was  this  contract  that  made  it  necessary  for 
them  to  give  up  the  home  shack  at  Bismarck  and 
to  journey  into  hostile  country.  Mr.  Worth 
could  not  return  to  the  settlement  to  his  family; 
the  family  must  therefore  come  to  him  in  the 
wilds. 

Much  of  the  long  winter  was  spent  by  the  boys 
in  talking  over  the  good  times  they  were  going 
to  have  when  they  reached  the  new  country.  At 
times  a  trapper  would  come  in  to  get  a  stock  of 
supplies,  and  John  and  Ben  listened  eagerly  to 
every  word  he  said  about  his  experiences.  These 
tales  were  old  stories  to  most  of  the  men  of  the 
little  town,  who  paid  no  attention  to  such  com- 
monplace matters,  but  Charley  Green,  like  the 
46 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

boys,  was  seeking  information,  and  he  drank  in 
every  word  as  eagerly  as  they. 

Much  of  Green's  ignorance  had  disappeared, 
though  "  Tenderfoot "  was  still  his  nickname, 
and  by  that  he  would  be  called  as  long  as  he  lived 
there.  He  had  changed  outwardly  as  well. 
The  Eastern  pallor  had  given  place  to  a  good, 
healthy,  bronzed  tint,  his  eye  was  clear  and  his 
hand  steady;  he  had  lost  weight  but  had  gained 
in  endurance.  His  gay,  expensive  outfit  of 
clothes  had  been  succeeded  by  the  more  sober  and 
serviceable  apparel  of  the  plains :  wide,  heavy  felt 
hat,  flannel  shirt,  rough  trousers  with  protecting 
leather  overalls  or  chaps,  and  high  boots.  He 
had  learned  enough  about  Western  ways  to  avoid 
making  many  blunders,  and  took  a  joke  at  his 
expense  good  naturedly  when  he  did  occasionally 
betray  himself. 

It  was  not  considered  polite  in  Bismarck  to  in- 
quire anything  about  a  man's  past — that  was  his 
own  business.  It  was  not  necessary  for  a  man  to 
give  his  pedigree  and  family  name  in  order  to  be 
received  into  the  society  of  his  fellows.  It  was 
not  his  past  that  concerned  them,  but  his  present. 
"  Lariat  Bill  "  was  quite  as  good  for  all  practical 
purposes  as  his  real  name,  perhaps  better,  for  it 
was  descriptive  and  identified  him  at  once.  In 
accordance  with  this  unwritten  law,  no  one  asked 
47 


CATTLE  RANGE  TO  COLLEGE. 

what  Charley  Green's  idea  was  in  leaving  the 
civilization  and  culture  of  Boston  for  the  wild, 
free,  albeit  rough,  life  of  the  plains;  but  rumor 
had  it  that  he  came  there  with  the  intention  of 
going  into  ranching.  If  so,  he  was  wise  beyond 
his  generation,  for  unlike  most  of  his  fellows  he 
looked  before  he  leaped. 

Tenderfoot  and  the  two  boys  had  struck  up 
quite  a  friendship.  It  was  quite  natural,  there- 
fore, knowing  as  he  did  the  Worths'  plans,  for 
him  to  say  one  day,  towards  the  end  of  the  win- 
ter: "  Do  you  suppose,  John,  that  your  dad  would 
take  me  along  on  his  mining  expedition?  " 

"  I  dunno,"  said  John,  "  you'll  have  to  ask  the 
governor  when  he  conies  back.  I  guess  he 
would." 

"  You  see,"  continued  Tenderfoot,  "  I'm  about 
as  tired  of  this  place  as  you  are,  and  I  want  to  see 
a  little  of  the  country.  I  guess  I  could  earn  my 
salt  as  a  mule-wrangler  anyway." 

So  it  was  decided  that  the  young  Easterner 
was  to  go  with  the  Worths  if  the  head  of  the 
house  consented. 

The  dreary  winter  was  beginning  to  give  way 
to  the  soft  south  winds.  The  snow  was  fast  dis- 
appearing and  buffalo  grass  was  showing  brightly 
green  here  and  there.  The  boys  had  an  unusu- 
ally bad  attack  of  spring  fever,  for  the  long- 
48 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

looked-for  time  of  the  pilgrimage  was  drawing 
near. 

Their  father  might  be  expected  any  day,  and 
then — their  delight  and  anticipation  could  not 
be  put  into  words. 

Mr.  Worth  at  length  came  in,  loaded  down 
with  his  pack,  his  arms,  and  his  heavy  winter 
furs. 

Keen  and  bitter  disappointment  was  in  store 
for  the  impatient  boys.  They  were  told  that  it 
would  not  be  safe  to  move  away  from  the  town, 
for  the  whole  country  was  full  of  hostile,  well- 
armed,  well-fed  Sioux. 

The  Black  Hills  of  southwestern  Dakota  had 
been  found  to  contain  gold  in  paying  quantities. 
This  region  was  considered  almost  sacred  by  the 
Indians  and  jealously  guarded.  It  was  now  ag- 
gressively penetrated  by  the  bold  miners,  and 
this  naturally  created  much  bad  feeling  between 
them  and  the  original  owners.  In  order  to  allay 
this  feeling  the  Government  made  a  treaty  with 
the  Indians  by  which  it  was  agreed  that  the  en- 
croaching miners  should  be  driven  out.  The 
disregarding  of  this  treaty  or  its  ineffective  en- 
forcement roused  the  Sioux  to  open  warfare. 

The  tribes  were  collecting  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Sitting  Bull  and  Rain-in-the-Face.  Sev- 
eral small  skirmishes  had  been  fought  and  num- 
4  49 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

bers  of  men  on  both  sides  had  been  killed.  Small 
outfits,  too,  had  been  wiped  out  completely  by  the 
savage  red  foe. 

It  would  have  been  suicidal,  therefore,  for  the 
Worth  family  to  venture  within  the  enemy's 
country,  as  had  been  previously  planned. 

Indeed,  while  there  was  probably  little  danger 
of  an  attack  at  this  time  on  Bismarck,  the  centre 
of  hostilities  being  many  hundred  miles  to  the 
westward,  great  precautions  were  taken  even 
there  every  night  to  guard  against  surprise,  and 
the  people,  especially  the  children,  never  went 
far  afield. 

The  spring  passed  and  another  summer's 
scorching  heat  began.  Occasionally  accounts 
came  in  of  battles  fought  and  victories  won, 
sometimes  by  one  side,  sometimes  by  the  other. 
It  was  a  time  of  uncertainty;  business  enterprise 
was  at  a  standstill,  and,  since  there  was  little  to  do 
in  the  frontier  town,  diversion  of  any  kind  was 
hailed  with  delight.  So  the  Fourth  of  July  cele- 
bration that  was  to  be  held  at  Black  Jack's  dance 
hall  was  looked  forward  to  with  great  expecta- 
tions by  old  and  young. 

Independence  Day  at  length  arrived,  and  was 

greeted  at  the  first  showing  of  light  in  the  east 

by  a  volley  of  revolver  shots.     The  celebration 

was  kept  up  with  enthusiasm  all  day.     Tender- 

50 


OUSTER'S  COMMAND.     (Page  53.) 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

foot  made  a  patriotic  speech  that  took  the  crowd 
by  storm — he  was  no  tenderfoot  in  that  line,  for 
his  college  debating  society  experience  served 
him  in  good  stead. 

At  sundown  the  guests  began  to  arrive  at  Black 
Jack's,  and  before  an  hour  had  passed  the  ball 
was  in  full  swing.  It  could  hardly  be  called  a 
fashionable  assemblage:  the  men,  of  whom  there 
were  three  or  four  to  every  woman,  were  dressed 
much  as  usual,  spurs  and  all,  except  that  in  com- 
pliance with  the  request  placarded  prominently, 
their  "  guns  "  were  laid  aside. 

A  single  fiddler  served  for  an  orchestra,  and 
also  acted  as  master  of  ceremonies,  calling  out  the 
figures  of  the  dances. 

The  violin  was  squeaking  merrily  and  the  feet 
of  the  dancers  thumped  the  rough  boards  vigor- 
ously, while  the  lamp  lights  silhouetted  the  un- 
couth figures  as  they  passed  between  them  and 
the  open  window. 

John  and  Ben,  who  were  watching  from  the 
outer  darkness,  were  suddenly  startled  by  hear- 
ing the  long,  deep  whistle  of  the  little  steamboat. 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  Ben.  "Sounds  like 
the  Will  o'  the  Wisp,  but  she  hasn't  been  along 
the  river  for  a  long  time." 

"  Let's  go  and  see,"  said  John.  "  Must  be 
something  doing  to  bring  her  down  at  this  time." 
51 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

The  two  boys  mounted  their  horses,  which 
stood  already  saddled,  and  galloped  down  to  the 
landing.  In  a  few  minutes  the  boat  steamed  up 
out  of  the  darkness,  slowed  down  and  made  fast 
to  a  cottonwood  stump. 

HaMly  had  it  come  to  a  stop  when  a  man  made 
a  running  leap  to  the  platform  and  dashed  toward 
the  boys,  who  were  the  only  persons  at  the  place. 

"  "Where's  all  the  people?  "  he  cried  excitedly. 
"  Let  me  take  that  horse  a  minute,  sonny." 

"  Up  at  Black  Jack's,"  said  John,  sliding  off 
Baldy's  back  without  delay,  for  it  was  evident 
that  the  newcomer  brought  important  news. 

The  stranger  mounted  and  set  off  at  a  hard 
gallop  for  Main  Street.  Reaching  the  brightly 
lighted  place,  he  jumped  off  and  stumbled 
through  the  doorway  into  the  centre  of  the  room. 

The  fiddler  stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  bar,  the 
dancers,  who  were  in  the  full  swing  of  "  all  hands 
around,"  stood  still  in  wonder,  and  every  eye  was 
fixed  upon  the  intruder.  He  looked  like  the 
bearer  of  bad  news. 

His  clothes  showed  that  he  had  travelled  far 
and  fast,  and  his  manner  evidenced  anything  but 
peace  of  mind.  For  an  instant  all  was  still. 
Then  Black  Jack  broke  the  silence :  "  Speak  out, 
man!  What's  up?  " 

"  I've  been  travelling  two  days  and  nights  to 
52 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

bring  the  news,"  he  panted.  "  Ouster "  he 

paused  for  breath. 

"Well,  hurry  up,  will  you!  "  exclaimed  Mac- 
kenzie, shaking  his  arm. 

"  Ouster  and  his  party  have  been  wiped  out  by 
the  Indians  on  the  Little  Big  Horn !  " 


l&m 


53 


CHAPTEK   IV. 

"HITTING  THE  TKAIL." 

The  Ouster  massacre  threw  the  whole  country 
into  a  spasm  of  fear. 

The  killing  of  three  hundred  trained  fighters 
and  a  general,  all  renowned  for  their  daring  and 
knowledge  of  Indian  warfare,  must  give  the 
enemy  a  confidence  that  would  be  hard  to  over- 
come. 

Every  one  wondered  where  the  next  blow 
would  be  struck  and  who  would  be  the  next  vic- 
tim. All  enterprises  were  checked,  all  peaceful 
journeys  postponed.  Not  till  the  autumn  of  the 
following  year  was  it  deemed  safe  for  the  Worth 
family  to  carry  out  their  plan  of  "  pulling  up 
stakes  "  and  leaving  Bismarck. 

During  the  year  which  had  elapsed  John  and 
Ben  had  grown  in  mind  and  body.  They  were 
sturdy,  strong  boys,  and  were  a  great  help  to 
54 


HITTING   THE  TRAIL." 


their  father.  Perfectly  able  to  take  care  of  the 
stock,  they  could  ride  like  centaurs  and  shoot 
with  their  "  guns  "  (as  the  Westerner  calls  his  re- 
volver) with  astonishing  accuracy.  They  used 
to  practice  at  tomato  cans  fifty  yards  away  and 
soon  became  so  expert  that  for  nearly  every  shot 
a  neat  round  hole  appeared  in  the  tin.  If  you 
think  this  easy,  try  it.  One  can  will  probably 
last  you  a  long  while. 

Long  before,  Charley  Green  had  made  a 
formal  request  to  be  included  in  the  migrating 
party  and  had  been  accepted.  He  was  really 
quite  a  valuable  man  now,  for  he  had  been  tried 
in  a  number  of  ticklish  places  and  had  shown  a 
solid  strength  and  coolness  in  the  face  of  danger. 

One  bright  autumn  day  the  pilgrimage  began. 

Several  men  were  to  accompany  the  family  to 
a  mine  that  had  already  been  located  fifty  miles 
away.  Here  the  winter  was  to  be  spent,  and 
then,  if  all  went  well,  another  mine  might  be 
opened  further  westward. 

The  final  preparations  for  moving  were  soon 
complete.  The  household  goods  were  packed 
into  the  great  lumbering  prairie  wagons,  canvas- 
topped  and  wide  of  beam;  the  little  log-built^ 
shack  was  left  intact,  its  rough,  heavy  door 
swinging  open. 

The  frontiersman's  household  outfit  was  very 
55 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

simple.  The  bedding  consisted  of  blankets;  cook- 
ing utensils  of  iron  and  tin,  dining-table  furniture 
of  the  same  materials,  a  few  chairs,  a  table  or  two, 
and  the  baby's  crib  completed  the  list.  The  Worth 
family  had  the  largest  library  in  town.  It  con- 
tained their  great,  brass-bound  Bible,  "  Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  the  Catechism  (and  how  the  boys 
dreaded  it!),  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  "Scott's 
Poems,"  and  the  "  Arabian  Nights."  These  pre- 
cious books  were  of  course  taken  along,  for 
though  the  boys'  father  read  little  and  lacked 
even  the  rudiments  of  education,  he  had  the  pride 
of  ownership. 

It  can  be  seen  at  once  that  this  simple  collec- 
tion of  necessaries  would  not  take  long  to  pack 
and  load.  Charley  Green  remarked  that  "  the 
whole  outfit  wouldn't  be  considered  security 
enough  for  a  week's  board  in  Boston." 

"  That's  true,"  answered  Mr.  Worth,  as  he 
lifted  the  sewing  machine  (the  only  one  for  miles 
and  miles  around)  tenderly  into  the  wagon.  "But 
our  household  stuff  is  considered  very  fine,  and 
people  come  from  long  distances  to  use  this  sew- 
ing machine." 

"  The  first  of  May  can't  have  any  terrors  for 
you,"  persisted  the  ex-collegian. 

Mr.  Worth  frowned  a  little,  for  although 
Charley's  fun  was  good-natured,  he  had  a  keen 
56 


"HITTING   THE  TRAIL." 

dislike  to  being  ridiculed,  and  had  always  been 
accustomed  to  considering  his  equipment  as 
something  rather  grand — as  indeed  it  was,  com- 
pared with  his  less  fortunate  neighbors. 

After  a  final  glance  around  to  see  that  nothing 
had  been  left,  the  head  of  the  family  put  his  wife 
and  baby  into  the  first  wagon,  but  before  climb- 
ing in  himself  he  called  out  to  John  and  Ben  to  go 
back  to  the  corral,  saddle  two  of  the  horses,  and 
drive  the  remaining  ones  after  the  wagon  train. 

The  two  boys  were  soon  busy  catching  and 
saddling  the  horses.  As  John  was  "  cinching  " 
up  Baldy,  he  heard  the  snap  of  his  father's  long 
black-snake  whip  and  the  creak  of  the  heavy 
wheels.  Then  for  the  first  time  he  realized  that 
the  only  home  he  had  ever  known  was  to  be  left 
permanently.  The  old  place  suddenly  became 
very  dear  to  him,  and  the  thought  of  leaving  it 
was  hard  to  bear;  in  fact,  he  had  to  bury  his  face 
in  Baldy's  rough,  unkempt  side  to  hide  the  tears 
that  would  come  despite  his  efforts. 

Ben,  on  the  contrary,  was  very  cheerful  and 
wThistled  between  the  sentences  of  talk  he  flung 
at  his  brother.  The  two  years'  difference  in 
their  ages  showed  very  plainly  in  this  matter. 

"  Here,  get  a  move  on  you,  John,"  he  shouted, 
"  my  horse's  all  ready." 

The  older  boy  bestirred  himself,  and  in  the 
57 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

rush  and  hurry  that  followed  he  soon  forgot  his 
momentary  regret. 

When  they  caught  up  with  the  wagons  they 
found  the  procession  headed  toward  the  centre  of 
the  settlement  and  almost  in  its  outskirts. 

The  town  had  grown  considerably  both  in 
population  and  area  since  we  first  saw  it,  and  or- 
dinarily the  departure  of  a  freighter's  outfit 
would  excite  but  little  remark.  The  exodus  of 
the  Worths,  however — one  of  the  few  families, 
and  one  of  the  very  first  settlers — was  quite  an 
event.  Many  of  their  friends  were  on  hand  to 
wish  them  good  speed.  The  boys  felt  like  "lords 
of  creation  "  indeed.  Were  they  not  bound  on 
a  journey  of  unknown  duration,  liable  to  have 
all  sorts  of  delightful  adventures?  They  held 
their  heads  up  and  pitied  their  boy  friends  who 
were  to  be  left  behind — and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  the  stay-at-homes  pitied  themselves. 

The  wagon  train  made  its  way  slowly  down 
to  the  river,  where  the  sheriff  bade  them  good- 

by. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  have  you  go,"  he  said,  nodding 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Worth.  "And  those  kids  of 
yours,"  he  added,  "  I  wish  you  could  leave  them 
behind;  it  will  be  pretty  tough  on  them,  and  be- 
sides, I'm  fond  of  the  little  beggars.  However," 
he  went  on,  as  the  boys'  father  shook  his  head, 
58 


"HITTING   THE  TRAIL." 

* 

"  I  suppose  you  know  what  you're  doing.  Well, 
good  luck.  So  long." 

"  So  long,"  replied  the  travellers  in  chorus. 

The  whole  outfit  was  ferried  over  the  river, 
passed  through  the  little  village  of  Mandan  clus- 
tered around  the  fort,  and  then  struck  out  across 
the  open  prairie.  It  made  quite  a  procession, 
the  light  wagon  in  front,  drawn  by  two  horses 
and  driven  by  Worth,  then  a  long  string  of  mule 
teams  hitched  to  the  first  of  a  train  of  prairie 
schooners,  whose  white  canvas-hooped  tops  shone 
in  the  sun.  The  cooking  utensils  in  the  vehicles 
and  hung  under  them  banged  and  clattered, 
the  wheels  creaked,  the  teamsters'  long  whips, 
which  took  two  hands  to  wield,  cracked  and 
snapped. 

At  the  head  of  the  party  rode  Charley  Green, 
with  his  long-eared  charges,  busy  at  his  self- 
imposed  task  of  "  mule-wrangling."  He  was 
new  to  the  business,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  beasts 
he  was  herding  were  aware  of  this.  For  a  while 
all  would  go  smoothly,  the  animals  closely 
bunched,  heads  down,  ears  drooped  forward,  the 
picture  of  innocence  and  dejection;  then  sud- 
denly a  lanky  brute  would  start  out  from  one  side 
as  if  propelled  from  a  gun,  and  no  sooner  had 
Charley  dug  the  spurs  into  his  pony  in  his  ef- 
forts to  head  it  off  than  another  mule  would 
59 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

0 

start  off  on  the  other  side.  Then  the  whole 
bunch  would  scatter,  radiating  from  a  common 
centre  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel.  John,  Ben, 
and  one  of  the  men  (called  Tongue-Tied  Ted,  be- 
cause of  his  few  words)  took  a  hand  in  the  game 
at  last,  and  together  they  rounded  up  the  stock 
into  a  compact  bunch  again. 

All  this  was  very  amusing  for  the  old  hands, 
but  Charley  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  it. 

"  Mule-wrangling  is  no  snap,"  he  grumbled. 
"  Why,  it's  easier  to  stop  a  whole  rush  line  than 
to  take  care  of  that  gang  of  long-eared,  rail- 
backed,  dirt-colored,  knock-kneed  horse  imi- 
tators." 

He  had  to  tackle  the  job  alone,  however,  for 
only  by  experience  could  he  learn,  and  experi- 
ence is  a  hard  and  thorough  teacher. 

The  boys  trotted  alongside,  now  riding  far 
ahead,  now  making  their  ponies  show  off  near  the 
wagons.  Excursions  were  made  from  time  to 
time  to  shoot  at  prairie  dogs,  rabbits,  and  coyotes. 
But  even  this  grew  monotonous  after  a  while, 
and  they  began  to  cast  about  in  their  minds  for 
amusement.  "  Let's  go  to  the  river  where  it 
makes  a  bend  over  there  and  take  a  swim,"  said 
Ben,  at  last. 

It  was  no  sooner  said  than  done.  They  were 
left  to  look  out  for  themselves  much  of  the  time, 
60 


"HITTING  THE  TRAIL." 

so  they  went  off  without  saying  a  word  to  any 
one. 

Soon  the  caravan  was  lost  to  view,  and  after  a 
few  minutes'  more  riding  even  the  shouts  of  the 
men  and  the  barking  of  the  dogs  could  not  be 
heard. 

The  boys  had  that  delightful  feeling  of  entire 
freedom  and  half  fear  which  comes  to  the  in- 
experienced thrown  upon  their  own  resources. 
The  prairie  was  perfectly  still  and  the  heat  was 
scorching,  for  the  sun  was  still  high.  It  was  a 
little  awesome,  and  for  a  minute  John  and  Ben 
wished  they  were  back  with  their  friends.  The 
thought  of  a  cool  dip  was  very  enticing,  however, 
and  they  would  both  have  been  ashamed  to  turn 
back  now,  so  they  cantered  along,  keeping  up 
each  other's  courage  by  shouting  and  laughing. 
Reaching  the  river,  they  scrambled  down  the 
steep  slope,  leaving  their  horses  to  graze  on  the 
level,  and  in  a  jiffy  were  enjoying  a  swim  in  the 
"  Big  Muddy."  The  bottom  was  free  from 
quicksands,  so  the  brothers  enjoyed  themselves 
to  their  hearts'  content. 

They  swam,  ducked,  and  dug  in  the  mud,  as 
full  of  glee  as  could  be.  For  an  hour  or  more 
they  revelled  in  their  sport;  then  John  dropped 
the  handful  of  dirt  he  was  about  to  throw  and 
looked  around,  half  scared.  "  Hallo,"  he  said, 
61 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

"  it's  getting  dark.  We'd  better  get  a  move  on." 
They  slid  into  their  clothes  as  only  boys  can, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  had  regained  the  top  of  the 
bank. 

The  sun,  a  fiery  red  ball,  was  low  down  in  the 
western  sky  and  almost  ready  to  drop  out  of 
sight  altogether. 

"  Why !  "  exclaimed  Ben.  "  Where  are  the 
horses?  " 

They  looked  hurriedly  around  and  then 
scanned  the  rolling  prairie  and  sage  bushes  in 
every  direction. 

But  the  horses  were  not  to  be  seen.  Nor  was 
the  wagon  train  in  sight.  Not  a  living  thing  was 
visible  on  the  horizon;  not  a  sound  could  be  heard 
anywhere.  On  every  side  there  were  only  mo- 
notonous clumps  of  sage,  and  the  sun  was  getting 
lower  and  lower  every  moment. 

They  rushed  to  a  knoll  and  searched  again. 
All  around  stretched  the  prairie — bare,  still, 
hopeless.  Then  they  looked  at  each  other  for 
the  first  time.  Ben  began  to  whimper. 

"  Come,  brace  up,"  said  John,  taking  the  elder 
brother's  part.  "I  know  the  trail;  we'll  catch 
up  to  them  in  no  time." 

His  tone  was  cheerful,  but  he  appeared  more 
at  ease  than  he  really  was.  It  was  not  a  pleasant 
situation  for  even  a  full-grown  man,  one  well 
62 


"HITTING   THE  TRAIL." 

versed  in  the  signs  of  the  plains,  its  landmarks, 
and  deceptions. 

The  boys  were  in  an  unfamiliar  section  of  the 
country,  without  food  or  means  of  transportation, 
at  nightfall.  Their  lessons  of  self-reliance  stood 
them  in  good  stead  now,  and  they  started  off 
bravely,  striking  away  from  the  river  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  wagon  trail.  After  walking  a  half 
hour  they  came  across  the  distinct  deep  rut  of 
wagons. 

This  was  a  great  encouragement;  it  was  like  a 
friendly  grasp  of  the  hand,  for  they  felt  that  they 
were  now  in  touch  with  men  and  living  things, 
though  neither  was  within  sight  or  sound. 

Only  the  palest  kind  of  twilight  now  re- 
mained, but  the  trail  could  be  seen  quite  dis- 
tinctly and  both  boys  took  heart. 

"  I'd  give  my  gun  for  a  piece  of  jerked  buffalo 
meat,"  said  Ben. 

"  "Well,  I  wouldn't  mind  munching  a  bean  my- 
self," replied  his  brother.  "  But  say,  won't  that 
feed  taste  good  when  we  get  to  the  camp?  Just 
think  of  that  big  fire  with  the  men  lying  around 
it,  and  the  wagons  drawn  in  a  circle  outside  all." 

"  Oh,  stop,"  broke  in  Ben,  peevishly.  "  I'm 
hungry  enough  and  tired  enough  already,  and 
your  talk  makes  me  ten  times  worse." 

Hour  after  hour  they  tramped  along,  their 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

courage  ebbing  with  every  step.  Expecting 
when  they  reached  the  crest  of  each  little  rise  to 
see  the  bustling  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  slope, 
each  time  they  again  took  up  the  weary  march 
with  a  heavier  load  of  disappointment  and  un- 
easiness. 

Thirst,  as  well  as  hunger,  now  began  to  attack 
them.  It  was  dry  weather,  and  the  dust  rose 
into  their  faces  as  they  walked,  tickling  throat 
and  nose,  and  causing  the  greatest  discomfort. 
From  time  to  time  they  lingered  to  rest,  but 
when  they  stopped  the  darkness  frightened  them, 
and  the  awful  stillness,  broken  only  by  the  wail- 
ing howl  of  a  coyote  and  the  low  moan  of  the 
rising  wind,  drove  them  on  relentlessly. 

At  last  Ben  declared  that  he  couldn't  go  any 
further,  but  as  soon  as  they  stopped  his  courage 
failed  him  and  he  burst  into  tears.  John  com- 
forted him  as  well  as  he  could,  but  he  was  himself 
at  his  wits'  ends. 

"  Come  along,  old  man,"  he  urged  after  a 
while,  "  let's  have  one  more  try  at  it." 

Again  they  started  off  wearily  and  slowly, 
John  with  an  arm  about  his  younger  brother. 
They  had  walked  only  a  few  minutes  when  Ben 
felt  his  brother's  arm  clasp  him  tighter  and  heard 
him  give  a  hoarse  shout. 

He  strained  his  eyes  ahead.  There  in  the 
64 


"HITTING  THE  TRAIL." 

darkness  was  an  indistinct  moving  mass.  They 
redoubled  their  efforts,  and  presently  discovered 
that  it  was  a  wagon  drawn  by  a  single  team  that 
seemed  hardly  able  to  stand  and  moved  forward 
at  a  snail's  pace. 

"  Did  you  see  anything  of  a  freight  outfit 
along  the  trail  to-night?  "  said  John  huskily  to 
the  driver. 

The  man  half  raised  himself  from  his  lounging 
position.  "Freight  outfit?"  said  he,  sleepily. 
"  No." 

Then  he  woke  up  a  little  more  as  Ben  broke 
into  tears  again.  Perceiving  their  woebegone 
appearance,  he  sat  erect,  and  for  the  first  time 
took  in  the  situation.  "  Why,  what  are  you  kids 
doin'  here  this  time  of  night?  Where's  your 
horses?  Where's  your  people?  " 

John  told  the  story  in  a  few  words,  while  Ben, 
quite  overcome,  leaned  his  head  against  his 
brother's  arm  and  went  fast  asleep  standing  up. 

"  And  haven't  you  had  anything  to  eat  since 
noon?  "  queried  the  driver  in  wonder. 

"  No,  nor  nothing  to  drink,"  answered  John, 
his  voice  shaking  a  little  in  spite  of  himself  at 
the  remembrance. 

"  Well,  I'm  sorry,  but  I'm  afraid  I  can't  help 
you  much.  I  haven't  got  a  bit  of  grub  myself. 
Thought  I  would  only  be  out  a  little  while,  and 
5  65 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

expected  to  reach  the  rest  of  my  outfit  by  dinner 
time,  so  I  didn't  bring  any  feed  myself.  One  of 
my  nags  gave  out,  so  I  couldn't  catch  the  teams. 
I  guess  I  can  give  you  a  little  lift,  anyhow.  But 
see  here!  "  he  ejaculated,  "  I  guess  you're  on  the 
wrong  trail,  ain't  you?  Your  folks  must  have 
took  the  other  branch  way  back  yonder;  they 
wouldn't  be  likely  to  come  over  this  side." 

Brave  John  collapsed  at  this.  He  and  Ben 
had  been  travelling  all  this  weary  time  in  the 
wrong  direction! 

"  Never  you  mind,  sonny,"  said  the  man, 
kindly.  "  We'll  find  some  way  out  of  it,"  he 
went  on  after  a  minute's  silence ;  "  those  trails 
join  again  after  a  piece.  Perhaps  you  may  meet 
your  outfit  there.  This  branch  follows  a  bend 
in  the  river,  while  the  other  cuts  across  country 
and  meets  it.  See? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  John,  dejectedly. 

"  Come,  help  me  get  this  team  of  mine  started; 
you'll  be  sure  to  find  your  outfit  camped  near  the 
fork;  there's  good  water  there  and  they'll  wait 
for  you." 

Encouraged  once  more  by  his  words,  John 
lifted  Ben  bodily  and  laid  him  in  the  wagon. 
Then,  after  a  good  deal  of  urging  with  voice  and 
whip,  he  got  the  worn-out  team  in  motion. 

For  half  an  hour  they  moved  along  without  a 
66 


HITTING  THE  TRAIL." 

word  being  spoken;  their  new  friend  relapsed 
into  his  huddled-up  position,  Ben  lay  asleep  in  the 
bottom  of  the  wagon,  and  John  communed  with 
himself.  He  wondered  what  his  mother  thought 
of  their  absence,  and  he  felt  the  responsibility  of 
an  elder  brother.  He  knew  that  the  horses  would 
turn  up  riderless,  and  that  his  father  would  send 
back  over  the  trail  that  had  been  covered  by  the 
train,  but  would  not  find  them.  The  thought  of 
their  anxiety  made  him  doubly  impatient  at  the 
slow  progress  made.  He  longed  for  Baldy  to 
gallop  on  and  set  their  minds  at  rest.  Still, 
they  moved  along  at  a  pace  little  faster  than  a 
walk.  Each  step  of  the  weary  beasts  seemed  as 
if  it  must  be  the  last. 

At  length  John,  who  was  the  only  person 
awake,  noticed  that  the  oif  horse  began  to  sway 
as  he  stumbled  along.  He  roused  the  man  at 
his  side  and  told  him  he  thought  the  animal  was 
about  done  for.  But  the  words  of  warning  were 
hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when  the  poor  beast 
dropped  like  a  lump,  made  a  few  fruitless  at- 
tempts to  regain  his  feet,  and  then  lay  quiet. 

Here  was  a  pretty  mess  for  all  hands ! 

The  man,  with  one  fagged  horse  and  one  al- 
most as  bad,  ten  miles  from  camp,  with  no  food 
or  water,  on  a  trail  over  which  hardly  any  one 
passed. 

67 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

The  boys,  footsore  from  the  long  tramp,  with 
a  gnawing  hunger  and  parching  thirst  and  noth- 
ing to  satisfy  either,  their  destination  they  knew 
not  how  far  off,  and  no  means  of  reaching  it  other 
than  afoot. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  do:  set  out  once 
more  and  trust  to  Providence  that  the  camp 
would  be  found  at  the  junction  of  the  two  trails 
and  that  their  strength  would  hold  out  long- 
enough  to  accomplish  the  journey. 

John  promised  to  send  some  one  back  with 
horses  and  food,  if  the  stranger  did  not  turn  up 
within  a  reasonable  time,  and  the  youngsters 
then  resumed  their  weary  march,  John  almost 
carrying  his  brother. 

The  moon  had  come  out  and  showed  the  boys 
the  deeply  marked  road.  They  had  but  to  fol- 
low the  track,  so  it  became  simply  a  question  of 
endurance  and  pluck.  The  simple,  hardy  life 
they  had  always  led,  and  the  constant  exposure 
to  heat  and  cold  had  toughened  their  little  bod- 
ies and  had  given  them  a  reserve  fund  of  strength 
which  now  responded  to  the  call  upon  their  ut- 
most powers.  Strained  as  every  faculty  was, 
they  plodded  on  doggedly,  hour  after  hour.  Just 
after  midnight  they  topped  a  little  rise,  and  in- 
voluntarily cried  out  in  unison.  There  ahead  of 
them  was  a  blaze  that  gave  them  new  life.  They 

68 


"HITTING  THE  TRAIL." 

had  reached  the  junction  of  the  two  trails,  and  the 
camp.  The  wagons  were  drawn  in  a  circle  just  as 
they  had  pictured  to  themselves,  the  camp  fire 
was  burning  brightly  in  a  shallow  pit  (to  prevent 
its  spread  to  the  surrounding  prairie,  and  some 
of  the  men,  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  were  lying 
like  long,  bumpy  bundles  on  the  ground,  while 
a  bunch  of  mules  were  feeding  at  a  little  distance, 
guarded  by  the  "  night  wrangler." 

In  the  centre  of  the  enclosure,  where  the  ruddy 
light  of  the  campfire  brought  out  their  anxious 
faces  in  strong  relief,  stood  the  boys'  father  and 
mother.  John  and  Ben  ran  forward  as  fast  as 
their  tired  legs  could  carry  them.  They  shouted 
— as  loud  as  their  dry,  dust-coated  throats  would 
allow. 

It  made  them  gulp  simultaneously  to  see  how 
the  expression  of  the  two  faces  changed;  the 
woman's  growing  wholly  tender  and  joyful,  the 
man's  altered  to  that  of  relief  rather  than  joy. 
John  knew  from  past  experience  that  while  the 
mother  would  be  glad  to  comfort  and  caress,  the 
father  would  not  permit  any  such  soft  treatment. 
They  would  be  lucky  if  they  got  off  with  a  sharp 
rebuke. 

Mrs.  "Worth  rushed  to  meet  them,  but  her  hus- 
band restrained  her.  "  You  boys  go  over  to 
the  cook-wagon  and  get  something  to  eat,  then 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

turn  in.  We've  got  to  get  off  soon  after  day- 
break. I'll  see  what  you  have  to  say  for  your- 
selves to-morrow." 

The  cold  supper  John  and  Ben  indulged 
in  that  night  would  probably  not  interest 
the  ordinary  pet  dog  of  your  acquaintance. 
It  consisted  of  cold,  greasy  pork  and  beans, 
poor  cold  coffee  without  milk,  and  soggy  bread, 
but  they  thought  it  was  food  fit  for  the  gods. 
Hunger  satisfied  and  thirst  quenched,  they 
were  glad  enough  to  curl  under  a  wagon,  a 
blanket  their  only  covering  and  a  saddle  for  a 
pillow. 

Before  getting  to  sleep  they  heard  the  teamster 
who  had  befriended  them  come  into  camp;  his 
team  had  revived  enough  to  painfully  cover  the 
remaining  distance  to  the  Worths'  outfit. 

They  had  hardly  dozed  off,  it  seemed  to  them, 
when  they  heard  the  cook's  shrill  call,  "  Grub 
p-i-i-i-le,"  and  knew  that  breakfast  was  ready  and 
all  hands  must  be  astir. 

After  the  blankets  had  been  made  into  a 
neat  roll  and  put  away  in  a  wagon,  breakfast 
was  despatched  promptly,  for  cook,  even  on  the 
frontier,  is  an  autocratic  person,  not  to  be  kept 
waiting. 

The  meal  was  much  like  the  supper  of  the  pre- 
vious night,  except  that  the  food  was  hot.  The 
70 


CHITTING    THE  TRAIL." 

boys  then  went  down  to  the  creek  and  soaked  off 
the  dust  that  had  gathered  during  their  long 
tramp.  In  an  incredibly  short  time  the  train 
had  broken  camp  and  was  on  the  move  again. 
The  cook's  few  dishes  and  pots  were  given  a 
hasty  rinse  in  the  creek  and  packed,  the  mules 
and  horses  driven  in,  and  the  fresh  ones  harnessed 
and  saddled.  The  "  day  wrangler  "  took  the 
place  of  the  "  night  wrangler,"  who  promptly 
lay  down  in  one  of  the  wagons  and  went  to 
sleep. 

The  procession  fairly  moving,  John  and  his 
brother  were  called  up  to  explain  their  absence 
of  the  afternoon  and  night  before.  This  John 
did  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  he  feared  his 
father's  wrath.  He  got  off,  however,  with  a 
severe  reprimand  and  positive  orders  not  to  go 
out  of  sight  of  the  wagons  at  any  time,  and  the 
boys  went  off  congratulating  themselves  on  their 
lucky  escape. 

All  that  day  the  caravan  travelled  steadily, 
stopping  only  at  noon  for  dinner  and  for  water. 
Towards  evening  they  came  near  their  desti- 
nation, reaching  a  clear  creek  bordered  with 
green.  Up  from  the  stream  rose  a  hill,  and 
half  way  up  was  a  strange-looking  house,  part 
of  which  seemed  to  be  buried  in  the  side  of  the 
slope. 

71 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

The  boys  were  somewhat  surprised  when  they 
were  told  that  this  was  to  be  their  home  for  the 
winter. 

"  Look,  John,"  exclaimed  Ben,  "  we're  going 
to  live  in  a  hole  in  the  ground." 


72 


CHAPTER    V. 

IN    A    MINING    CAMP. 

"  More  like  a  tunnel  with  a  porch  to  it,  I 
should  say,"  said  John,  as  they  approached  the 
"  dug-out." 

Indeed,  the  "Worths'  new  home  was  an  unpre- 
possessing abode  even  after  the  familiar  furni- 
ture was  in  position,  the  bunks  made  ready  for 
use,  and  a  fire  built  in  the  fire-place. 

As  its  name  showed,  it  was  merely  a  hole  or 
tunnel  in  the  slope  of  the  hill,  with  a  small  log 
house  built  out  from  it.  But  though  it  was  not 
luxurious,  it  was  warm  in  winter  and  cool  in 
summer,  the  earth  protecting  it  from  extremes  of 
both  heat  and  cold.  The  bare  ground  packed 
hard  served  for  a  floor,  and  the  fire-place  was  set 
far  back  in  the  underground  portion  of  the  room, 
its  smoke  outlet  being  a  chimney  of  sod  project- 
ing through  the  roof. 

Into  this  new  and  strange  dwelling  the  house- 
hold goods  were  carried,  a  fire  was  built,  and  in  a 
73 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

short  while  the  place  began  to  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  a  home.  "While  this  was  being  done,  the 
men  looked  up  their  own  habitations,  and  found 
that  other  dug-outs,  not  so  large  or  well  finished, 
but  fairly  comfortable,  were  all  ready  for  occu- 
pancy. The  mine  had  been  opened  already,  and 
the  workmen  had  previously  constructed  these 
huts,  half  caves,  half  houses,  for  themselves  and 
for  the  "  boss's  "  family. 

It  was  all  a  new  experience  for  the  boys,  and 
they  investigated  everything  with  great  interest. 
The  idea  of  living  in  a  hole  in  the  ground  struck 
them  for  quite  a  while  as  very  funny,  and  they 
made  jokes  without  end  about  it  to  each  other. 

The  wagons  had  been  placed  in  the  wide  creek 
"  bottom  " — the  space  cut  out  of  the  bank  by  the 
current,  which  had  since  retreated  to  its  present 
narrower  channel.  This  "  bottom,"  for  years 
and  years  the  stream's  bed,  was  well  supplied 
with  rich  alluvial  soil,  and  was  in  consequence 
luxuriantly  covered  with  fresh  grass  and  vegeta- 
tion of  all  kinds. 

"  I  tell  you,  Jack,"  called  Ben,  when  the  boys 
scrambled  down  the  steep  path  to  the  creek,  "  this 
is  something  like.  Why,  I  can  see  bottom — and 
I  declare,  if  I  didn't  see  a  fish  sneak  out  of  that 
rooty  place  there." 

He  hopped  on  one  foot  and  then  on  the  other 
74 


IN  A   MINING    CAMP. 

in  his  excitement,  and  then,  somehow — neither 
he  nor  John  could  ever  explain  it — he  sud- 
denly found  himself  splashing  in  the  clear 
stream.  John  caught  hold  of  his  heels  and 
dragged  him  out  face  down.  His  head  had 
scraped  the  soft  bottom  and  his  nose  had  made  a 
beautiful  furrow  in  the  mud. 

"What  were  you  trying  to  do?"  inquired 
John,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  his  breath.  "  Catch 
the  fish  in  your  mouth?  " 

When  Ben  turned,  spitting  mud  and  digging 
it  out  of  his  nostrils,  John  almost  exploded  with 
laughter.  "  Maybe  you  think  it's  funny," 
spurted  the  younger  boy,  "  but  wait  till  you  come 
to  make  a  mud  scow  of  yourself;  then  you  won't 
laugh  quite  so  much." 

John  struggled  to  suppress  his  mirth,  and  after 
a  while  succeeded — as  long  as  his  brother's  mud- 
be-plastered  visage  was  not  in  sight. 

Face  washed  and  good  humor  restored,  the 
boys'  wandered  further  down  the  stream  on  a  trip 
of  discovery.  New  delights  opened  at  every 
turn.  A  mile  or  so  below  the  camp  a  beaver  dam 
was  found,  and  as  they  drew  near,  one  of  those 
clever,  industrious  little  beasts  shot  down  the  T^T"" 

slide  they  had  constructed,  with  a  kerflop  into  *'      v  ~ 

Instantaneous  sketches  of 

the  pool.     Here  was  sport  indeed.     The  boys    2nd  Swing?"1 
wondered  how  many  of  the  curious  animals  the 
75 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

brown,  mud-plastered,  dome-shaped  houses  con- 
tained. The  doors  to  these  houses  were  under 
water,  and  only  the  second  story  was  above  its 
level. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  John,  "  we'll  have  to 
catch  some  of  those  beggars.  Their  skins  are 
worth  money."  And  so  they  vowed  to  remem- 
ber the  spot  and  capture  some  of  the  inhabitants 
of  this  semi-submarine  village. 

A  little  further  along  they  came  to  a  clearly 
marked  path,  the  edge  of  which  (the  centre  was 
beaten  hard)  was  indented  with  small  hoof  prints 
of  deer  and  antelope.  They  saw,  too,  the  cush- 
ioned print  of  the  great  prairie  wolf.  Evidently 
this  was  the  haunt  of  game  of  all  kinds. 

On  the  way  back  the  boys  had  little  leisure  to 
examine  the  paradise  they  had  discovered,  for 
the  sun  was  sinking  fast  and  they  had  wandered 
further  than  they  realized.  An  inviting  pool 
was  noted,  however,  that  would  serve  for  a  swim- 
ming hole,  and  Ben  unhesitatingly  dubbed  this 
"  plumb  bully."  John  prevented  him  from 
plunging  into  it  right  away  only  by  main  force 
and  the  reference  to  his  ducking,  but  he  could 
not  keep  him  from  taking  of?  his  moccasins  and 
wading  in  whenever  an  opportunity  occurred. 

As  they  neared  the  camp  the  last  rays  of  the 
sun  glinted  down  on  them.  The  preparations 
76 


IN  A  MINING    CAMP. 


for  the  evening  meal  were  in  full  swing :  the  clat- 
ter of  tin  dishes  mingled  with  the  clatter  of 
tongues,  and  the  smoke  pouring  from  the  sod 
chimneys  bore  a  most  savory  odor  that  made  the 
boys  realize  they  were  hungry. 

"  I  wish  we  had  a  rifle/'  John  was  saying. 
"  We  could  have  got  one  of  those  ducks  we  saw 
down  the  creek  for  supper." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  have  one,  and  a  repeater, 
too,"  returned  Ben.  "  I'll  have  one  if  I ' 

"  Look  out !  "  yelled  his  brother,  interrupting 
him.  At  the  same  moment  he  jumped  to  his 
side  and  pulled  him  violently  back.  Ben  almost 
fell,  but  his  brother  held  him  up  and  dragged  him 
still  further. 

"  Look !  "  he  said,  breathless  with  excitement. 

Ben's  eyes  followed  the  direction  of  his  point- 
ing finger.  There  in  the  trail  on  which  they  had 
been  walking,  on  the  exact  spot  where  he  had 
been  about  to  plant  his  bare  foot,  lay  a  big  dia- 
mond-backed rattler,  asleep  in  the  last  rays  of  the 
setting  sun. 

"  Phew !  that  was  a  close  call,"  exclaimed 
John.  "  You  want  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
when  you  go  barefoot.  I  can't  watch  out  for 
you  all  the  time." 

The  younger  boy,  pretty  badly  scared,  put  on 
his  moccasins  without  delay  and  kept  his  eyes  on 
77 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

the  trail  after  that.  The  rest  of  the  way  was 
covered  in  almost  absolute  silence,  for  the  escape 
had  been  a  narrow  one,  and  both  were  sobered 
by  it. 

The  plain,  wholesome  supper  over,  the  boys 
were  glad  enough  to  turn  in,  and  though  the 
bunks  were  anything  but  soft  and  the  surround- 
ings unfamiliar,  the  exertions  of  the  day  before 
and  the  hardships  of  the  night  preceding  it  put 
them  to  sleep  in  short  order. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  whole  camp  was 
wrapped  in  slumber.  The  stock  had  been  al- 
lowed to  run  free,  it  being  well  known  that  they 
would  not  stray  far  from  the  good  feed  that  the 
creek  bottom  afforded.  All  was  silent  without 
and  only  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  sleepers  dis- 
turbed the  quiet  within.  "  Spuds,"  the  dog, 
from  time  to  time  growled  and  barked  inwardly 
as  he  dreamed  of  a  fierce  chase  after  a  gopher  or 
jack  rabbit.  At  last  even  he  subsided. 

This  absolute  quiet  was  presently  disturbed 
by  a  howl, — long,  wailing,  and  dreadful, — that 
sounded  through  the  low  roof  as  if  the  thing 
that  caused  it  must  be  in  the  room  itself.  Ben 
jumped  up  so  suddenly  that  he  struck  his  head 
on  his  brother's  bunk  above  him. 

"What's  that?"  he  cried,  shaking  with  fear 
at  a  sound  he  could  not  explain.  John,  his  head 
78 


IN  A   MINING    CAMP. 

stuck  out  of  the  berth  above,  was  frightened  him- 
self, and  could  not  explain  the  noise. 

Again  the  fearful  wail  came,  this  time  not  so 
distinct,  but  quite  as  awe-inspiring.  The  boys 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  when  their  father 
got  up,  took  the  rifle  from  the  two  pegs  that  sup- 
ported it,  and  went  to  the  door.  His  evident 
calmness  reassured  them.  As  he  reached  the 
door  and  fumbled  with  the  latch,  John  and  Ben 
heard  a  soft  but  rapid  patter  of  feet  and  then  his 
muttered  exclamation: 

"  Plague  take  those  pesky  wolves,  howling  at 
a  man's  door  in  the  dead  of  night." 

So  the  boys  made  acquaintance  with  the  great, 
gray  prairie  wolf  at  close  quarters  the  first  night 
of  their  stay  afar  from  civilization. 

In  a  few  days  the  men  were  in  full  swing  at  the 
work  for  which  they  had  come  to  this  point.  The 
boys  were  too  young  to  take  part  in  the  mining 
operations,  but  even  they  had  their  chores  to  per- 
form at  certain  times  of  the  day,  after  which  they 
were  at  liberty  to  do  much  as  they  pleased, 
within  certain  well-known  limits.  Their  first 
duty  on  being  wakened  between  four  and  five 
was  to  round  up  the  stock  and  drive  it  in.  This 
was  not  such  easy  work  as  it  sounds.  The  jour- 
ney in  search  of  the  animals  was  long,  and  was 
made  on  an  empty  stomach  in  the  cold,  raw  morn- 
79 


- 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

ing  air.  Even  when  they  were  found,  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  get  them  moving  towards  the  camp.  The 
animals  seemed  at  times  to  be  endowed  with  dia- 
bolical perversity,  and  would  resist  all  efforts  to 
start  them  running  in  the  right  direction.  The 
mules  and  horses  once  corraled,  the  boys  had  an 
appetite  for  breakfast  that  a  dyspeptic  would  give 
a  fortune  to  acquire.  After  that  hearty  meal 
the  brothers  supplied  the  camp  with  wood  and 
water  and  did  what  odd  jobs  were  required  about 
the  home.  This  completed  their  work  for  the 
time. 

After  these  duties  were  performed  one  morn- 
ing, John  and  Ben  bethought  them  of  the  beaver 
village,  and  their  spirits  rose  in  anticipation  of 
the  sport.  A  full  trapper's  outfit  had  been 
brought  to  the  camp.  They  got  this  out  and 
made  up  a  pack  containing  several  steel  traps 
(having  strong  jaws  armed  with  sharp  teeth  and 
set  off  by  pressure  of  the  animal's  foot  on  the 
trigger  plate),  an  axe,  some  fishing  line  and 
tackle  in  case  a  good  pool  was  encountered,  the 
always  present  revolvers  and  ammunition,  and  a 
small  store  of  food. 

Though  it  was  their  first  experience  in  trap- 
ping beaver,  the  boys  were  well  versed  in  the 
theory  of  the  business;  they  had  never  let  an  op- 
portunity go  by  to  learn  all  they  could  about  such 


IN  A  MINING    CAMP. 

sport.  So  they  started  with  a  fair  knowledge  at 
least  of  the  habits  and  ways  of  the  beaver  whom 
they  were  to  outwit.  Their  journey  down  to  the 
dam  led  them  along  the  creek,  and  they  noted 
several  inviting  pools  where  bullheads  and  trout 
were  likely  to  lurk,  planning  to  come  back  and 
try  to  catch  a  string  after  they  had  set  their  traps. 

Reaching  the  dam,  they  set  to  work.  John 
being  the  elder,  at  once  took  command  of  the 
expedition.  "  You  chop  down  some  brush,"  he 
ordered,  "  while  I  go  over  and  punch  a  few  holes 
in  the  dam.  These  little  beggars  know  a  thing 
or  two  and  won't  run  into  an  uncovered  trap." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  cut  down  brush  for?  " 
questioned  Ben,  as  he  shouldered  the  axe  and  pre- 
pared to  obey. 

"  Why,  you  see,  when  I  break  the  dam  the 
water  will  rush  out  and  show  up  the  entrance  to 
the  houses ;  then  after  we  go  away  the  beaver  will 
get  to  work  to  build  it  up  again,  and  will  go  for 
the  brush  you  have  chopped  down  and  get  caught 
in  the  traps  we  will  set  in  it.  See  ?  " 

Ben's  eyes  danced  at  the  prospect,  and  he 
raced  off  to  do  his  part. 

The  boys  were  soon  out  of  sight  of  each  other, 

and  John  busied  himself  on  the  top  of  the  dam 

with    a   strong   stick,    poking   holes   ruthlessly 

through  it.     He  found  it  firmer  than  he  had  ex- 

6  81 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

pected,  and  it  took  all  his  strength  and  skill  to 
tear  it  open.  He  pushed  his  stick  in  vertically, 
in  order  to  get  a  good  purchase,  and,  encounter- 
ing an  unexpected  obstacle,  put  his  whole  weight 
into  the  thrust.  All  of  a  sudden  the  obstruction 
gave  away,  the  stick  sank  down  till  his  hands 
struck  the  ground,  he  lost  his  balance  and  fell 
headlong  into  the  deep  part  of  the  stream. 

The  water  was  well  over  his  head,  and  after  a 
few  minutes'  struggling,  he  began  to  realize  that 
he  was  in  a  nasty  situation.  The  dam  was  com- 
posed mostly  of  slippery  mud,  which  gave  him 
no  hold,  and  burdened  by  his  soaked  clothing,  he 
could  not  swim  to  the  bank.  The  water  was  icy 
cold,  and  he  felt  almost  numb  at  once.  He  called 
to  Ben,  but  could  not  make  him  hear.  Then  he 
sank  beneath  the  surface. 

-Again  he  went  down,  but  he  kept  his  presence 
of  mind  and  struggled  with  might  and  main  to 
gain  a  foothold  on  the  slimy  slope.  In  spite  of 
his  efforts  to  keep  on  top,  he  sank  a  third  time, 
but  this  time  barely  below  the  level  of  his  eyes. 
His  work  on  the  dam  had  accomplished  its  pur- 
pose and  the  water  was  rushing  out  through  a 
leak,  so  that  the  depth  was  decreasing  every 
minute.  He  realized  that  if  he  could  keep  up 
a  little  longer  he  would  be  all  right. 

Again  he  sank,  too  tired  to  do  more,  but  this 
82 


IN  A   MINING    CAMP. 

time  was  able  to  keep  his  mouth  above  water  by 
standing  on  tiptoe  and  stretching  his  neck  to  its 
fullest  extent. 

Before  long  the  water  had  receded  so  much 
that  he  could  wade  ashore,  though  at  times  his 
feet  slipped  into  holes  that  let  him  down  until  he 
was  entirely  under  water.  Reaching  the  bank, 
he  dragged  himself  up  and  lay  down  flat,  for  the 
time  quite  exhausted. 

He  was  more  breathless  than  hurt,  however, 
and  in  a  short  time  was  able  to  get  up  and  crawl 
over  to  a  sunny  spot. 

Ben  came  up  presently  and  was  inclined  to 
joke  with  his  brother  on  his  mishap;  but  after 
John  had  told  his  story  he  took  it  more  seriously. 

The  boys  noted  with  satisfaction  that  the  water 
was  now  so  low  that  the  submerged  entrances  to 
the  beaver  houses  were  visible.  They  therefore 
hastened  to  place  their  traps  in  the  brush  that 
Ben  had  cut.  They  then  moved  up  the  creek 
to  the  fishing  hole  they  had  noted,  to  await  devel- 
opments and  at  the  same  time  try  their  luck  at 
fishing.  Ben  took  the  line  while  John  stripped  off 
his  water-soaked  clothes,  hung  them  up  to  dry, 
and  then  lay  down  in  a  warm  sunny  spot.  It  was 
late  in  the  fall,  and  the  wind  proved  too  search- 
ing for  comfort  in  this  condition,  so  a  fire  was 
built,  by  which  he  dried  and  warmed  himself. 
83 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


Beaver  Chip. 


The  fish  were  hungry  and  bit  early  and  often, 
with  the  result  that  the  pile  of  bullheads  and 
trout  on  the  bank  was  soon  a  goodly  sight  to  be- 
hold. A  few  of  them  John  cleaned  and  hung 
over  the  fire  with  a  forked  stick.  The  meal 
which  followed  was  enjoyed  to  the  full,  and  by 
the  time  it  was  finished  John's  wet  clothes  were 
fairly  dry.  Ben  was  for  looking  after  the  traps 
right  away,  but  his  brother's  more  experienced 
counsel  prevailed,  and  they  agreed  to  visit  them 
at  the  earliest  opportunity  the  following  morn- 
ing. 

The  first  minute  after  the  next  morning's  work 
was  finished  they  hurried  to  the  scene  of  John's 
accident.  After  considerable  searching  (for  they 
had  neglected  to  chain  the  traps  fast  to  a  log) 
they  found  one.  In  it  was  a  beaver's  foot,  well 
provided  with  claws  for  digging,  and  gnawed  off 
clean  above  the  joint.  The  brave  little  beast  had 
cut  off  his  own  leg  to  save  his  life. 

"Well,  I'm  jiggered,"  said  Ben.  "If  that 
don't  beat  all.  Don't  you  wish  you  had  come 
back  when  I  wanted  you  to?  " 

"  No;  the  beaver  didn't  show  up  till  after  dark, 
probably.  Besides,  there  are  three  other  traps, 
and  there  must  be  something  in  'em  or  they 
would  be  where  we  left  'em." 

They  searched  and  searched  and  called  each 
84 


IN  A  MINING    CAMP. 

other  names  because  of  their  carelessness  in  not 
making  the  traps  fast.  Finally  they  bethought 
them  of  the  possibility  of  the  little  animals'  drag- 
ging the  cruel  steel  jaws  with  them  to  their 
houses,  which,  instinct  would  teach  them,  were 
their  only  safe  refuges. 

Sure  enough,  there  were  two  of  them  dead, 
drowned  at  their  own  door;  the  third  was  alive 
and  full  of  energy.  Timid  usually,  the  beaver 
when  caught  or  brought  to  bay  will  fight  cour- 
ageously. Ben  stooped  to  drag  the  trap  and  its 
captive  out,  but  drew  back  so  suddenly  that  his 
head  struck  John,  who  was  also  leaning  over,  a 
scientific  blow  on  the  nose.  That  maltreated  and 
indignant  organ  began  to  bleed  freely,  and  it  did 
not  console  John  to  any  great  degree  to  learn  that 
the  little  beast  had  turned  on  Ben  and  that  he  had 
come  within  an  ace  of  having  a  finger  bitten  off 
by  its  long  yellow  teeth.  He  was  so  alarmed  at 
this  savage  pugnacity  that,  without  paying  any 
attention  to  the  rap  he  had  given  John,  he  still 
retreated,  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  hole.  This 
was  needless,  however,  for  the  animal  was  hope- 
lessly entangled.  A  shot  from  John's  revolver 
soon  put  the  little  creature  out  of  its  misery  and 
enabled  them  to  drag  it  out  without  danger. 

They  returned  to  camp,  triumphantly  bearing- 
three  splendid  beavers.  But  John  held  his  hand 
85 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

over  his  swelling  nose  and  fast  blackening  eyes: 
he  could  afford  to  accept  with  equanimity  all 
taunting  references  to  his  injured  member,  such 
as,  "  Your  nose  is  out  of  joint,"  and  "  What  a 
black  look  you  have,"  for  he  had  turned  the 
tables  on  Ted,  who  had  laughed  at  him,  calling 
out :  "  Sonny,  you  think  you're  going  on  a  beaver 
hunt,  but  you're  really  going  on  a  wild  goose 
chase." 

Many  more  trips  did  the  two  boys  make  to  this 
and  other  beaver  villages,  and  the  pile  of  salted 
skins  grew  to  quite  respectable  proportions  by  the 
time  the  ice  began  to  form  on  the  creek. 

With  winter  came  many  added  pleasures  and 
some  extra  work  and  discomfort.  Paths  to  the 
mine  and  to  water  had  to  be  dug  in  the  early 
morning  through  the  snow  that  had  drifted  dur- 
ing the  night,  and  this  work  was  added  to  the 
boys'  regular  tasks.  The  drawing  of  water  had 
now  become  more  difficult,  for  a  hole  had  to  be 
cut  in  the  ice  every  time.  Gathering  wood,  too, 
was  not  easy,  since  it  was  necessary  to  burrow  for 
it  through  the  white  blanket  of  snow. 

One  of  the  men  of  the  camp  was  a  Swede  called 
"  Yumping  Yim,"  because  of  his  racial  inability 
to  pronounce  the  letter  "  J."  He  showed  the 
boys  how  to  make  snowshoes  or  skees,  long  strips 
of  wood  curved  up  at  the  front,  the  bottom 


THE    RIFLE    RESTED    CLOSELY    AGAINST    HIS   CHEEK.       (Pflf/e  99.) 


BEX    WENT    OVER   TO    WHERE    THE    GAME    LAY.       (Page  100.) 


IN  A   MINING    CAMP. 

slightly  concave  to  give  a  purchase  on  the  crust 
and  prevent  them  from  slipping  sideways,  the  top 
convex  and  rising  slightly  from  toe  and  heel  to 
the  centre  where  the  foot  rested.  The  boys  soon 
became  proficient  in  the  use  of  these  and  some- 
times travelled  considerable  distances  on  them. 

Exhilarating  trips  they  were,  over  the  crusted 
snow,  when  swift,  breathless  slides  were  taken 
down  the  hills,  and  skimming  jumps  from  one 
level  to  another.  It  was  on  one  of  these  trips  that 
John  and  Ben  saw  for  the  first  time  a  herd  of 
buffalo,  their  great,  brown,  closely-packed  bodies 
looking  like  an  undulating  sea  of  fresh  earth 
against  the  whiteness  of  the  snow.  With  them 
were. large  numbers  of  antelope,  these  weaker 
animals  profiting  by  the  ability  of  the  powerful 
buffalo  to  break  into  the  drifts  and  uncover  the 
scanty  herbage. 

The  boys  skimmed  back  to  camp,  and  soon  all 
the  men  formed  themselves  into  a  hunting  party. 
Luck  was  with  them.  The  whole  party  crept 
softly  up,  using  every  bit  of  cover  that  could  be 
found.  Then  there  was  a  whispered  consulta- 
tion, rifles  were  levelled,  Mr.  Worth  kicked  a 
lump  of  snow  as  a  signal,  and  five  guns  barked 
out  together.  John  and  Ben  dashed  forward  in 
wild  excitement  to  find  three  antelopes  lying 
dead.  Without  stopping,  the  hunters  pressed  on 
87 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

after  the  flying  animals,  and  by  nightfall  a  row 
of  antelope  hung  high  up  against  the  log  portion 
of  the  dug-out.  Since  the  boys  had  no  rifles  of 
their  own  and  the  family  Winchester  was  in  use, 
they  had  to  be  content  with  long  shots  with 
revolvers. 

During  the  excitement  following  one  of  the 
volleys,  Ben,  who  had  lingered  behind,  saw  what 
he  thought  was  a  wounded  animal.  He  quickly 
raised  his  pistol  and  fired.  As  he  did  so,  the 
figure  rose  and  stood  upright.  It  was  Charley 
Green!  His  winter  clothing,  like  that  of  the 
boys,  was  made  of  deerskin,  his  cap  of  the  pelt  of 
the  musk-rat — even  his  hands  and  feet  were 
covered  with  deerskin  soled  with  buffalo  hide. 
The  deception  had  been  complete,  all  too  com- 
plete, Charley  thought,  when  he  heard  what  a 
narrow  escape  he  had  had.  Ben  shivered  when  he 
realized  what  might  have  happened,  and  regis- 
tered a  mental  vow  to  let  any  future  deer  get 
away  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  its  being  deer 
only  in  hide  and  man  beneath. 

The  boys  had  learned  to  cut  out  and  make 
their  own  winter  deer-hide  clothing,  caps,  shirts, 
mittens,  and  "  packs,"  or  boots,  soled  with  buffalo 
hide,  hair  side  in ;  so  they  always  had  plenty  to  do 
when  indoors.  Most  of  the  days  were  spent  on 
their  skees.  They  learned  many  new  things  and 


IN  A   MINING    CAMP. 

many  ways  of  getting  along  under  their  new  con- 
ditions. For  instance,  a  snow  house  had  been 
dug  in  a  big  drift  which  extended  out  over  the 
ice-covered  creek,  and  a  fire  was  built  inside 
which  speedily  melted  a  hole  through  to  the 
water.  It  was  so  much  warmer  under  the 
blanket  of  snow  that  this  did  not  freeze  over. 
Through  it  the  boys  drew  the  supply  of  water 
and  caught  many  a  fine  string  of  fish. 

The  long  winter  evenings  were  spent  around 
the  big  fireplace,  where  the  men  made  or  patched 
clothes,  told  stories,  played  cards,  and  smoked. 
The  camp  was  cut  off  from  the  world  by  the  miles 
and  miles  of  deep  white  snow  which  overspread 
the  land  in  every  direction.  There  was  no  dan- 
ger from  Indians,  for  even  they  could  not  move 
under  difficulties  so  insurmountable.  Wolves 
nightly  came  down  from  the  hills  and  left  their 
footprints  on  the  snow  about  the  house,  and  es- 
pecially under  the  row  of  frozen  deer  which 
swung  from  a  high  support — the  winter  supply  of 
meat  killed  after  freezing  weather  set  in.  Both 
night  and  day  the  coyotes  howled  and  answered 
each  other  from  the  high  points  round  about,  with 
their  wuh,  wuh,  wuh-aou-u-u-u-u-wuh-wuh.  On 
moonlight  nights  the  scene  from  the  front  door 
was  entrancing.  The  wide,  white  valley 
stretched  up  and  down  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
80 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

and  the  reaching  white  ridges  of  snow  and  utter 
silence  suggested  illimitable  distance.  When 
the  wind  blew,  the  fine  snow  slid  along  the  en- 
crusted surface,  making  a  noise  like  hissing  water 
on  a  pebbly  beach,  while  the  finer  particles,  rising 
in  the  air,  created  lunar  rainbows  of  surpassing 
beauty.  Here  indeed  was  loneliness,  loveliness, 
and  solemn  immensity. 


90 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A     SNOWSHOE     BACE. 

"  I  tell  you  what/'  said  Ben,  one  day  when  the 
boys  were  off  on  their  skees,  "  if  we  only  had  a 
sled,  what  fun  we'd  have  down  these  hills!  " 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  making  one?  " 
answered  John,  the  ever-ready.  "  It  would  be 
great;  this  crust  is  smooth  as  glass;  we'd  just  fly." 

At  once  they  turned  in  their  tracks  and  sped 
for  home  to  carry  out  their  plan. 

"  I'll  beat  you  in,"  said  Ben. 

"  I'll  bet  you  won't." 

They  started  off  evenly  at  the  top  of  a  slope. 
A  few  long,  half-stepping,  half-sliding  strokes 
gave  them  impetus  enough  to  slide.  Both 
crouched  now  in  order  to  lessen  the  wind  resist- 
ance and  to  avoid  the  chance  of  losing  their  bal- 
ance. They  were  very  evenly  matched;  for 
while  John  was  the  stronger,  his  brother  was 
light  and  not  so  apt  to  break  through  the  crust. 
Down  they  rushed  with  ever-increasing  speed, 
the  particles  of  snow  rising  like  spray  before 
91 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

them.  The  swishing,  crunching  noise  grew  into 
a  hum  as  they  sped  faster  and  faster.  At  first 
Ben  forged  ahead — he  had  got  a  better  start — 
then  John's  weight  began  to  tell  and  he  gained 
inch  by  inch.  Ben  crouched  down  still  lower, 
making  his  body  in  a  compact  little  ball,  but  in 
spite  of  all  he  could  do  his  brother  gained  on  him. 
Now  he  was  even,  now  a  little  ahead,  and  now 
only  his  back  could  be  seen  by  the  younger.  The 
end  of  his  scarf  was  standing  out  behind  him 
like  a  painted  stick.  The  distance  gradually  in- 
creased until  perhaps  twenty  yards  of  glistening 
snow  lay  between  them.  Ben  was  watching  in- 
tently for  any  slight  grade  of  which  he  might 
take  advantage.  All  at  once  he  noticed  that 
John  had  disappeared. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  he  too  began  to 
drop.  The  racers  had  been  watching  each  other 
so  closely  that  neither  had  noticed  that  they  were 
approaching  the  edge  of  a  great  drift.  John 
had  sailed  over  first  and  landed  right  side  up 
some  eight  feet  below,  but  so  solidly  that  he 
broke  through  the  crust  and  stopped  short,  fall- 
ing forward  on  his  face.  The  instant  of  warn- 
ing that  Ben  had,  had  put  him  on  his  guard:  he 
landed  lightly  and  sped  on,  hardly  checked. 

"  You  will  beat  me,  eh !  "  he  shouted  derisively 
to  his  discomfited  brother,  as  he  shot  past. 
93 


A  SNOWSHOE  RACE. 

John  scrambled  up  and  started  again,  but  the 
incline  was  now  very  short,  and  by  the  time  he 
reached  the  level  Ben  was  far  in  advance  and 
going  well.  It  was  a  long,  stern  chase.  How- 
ever, the  older  boy's  strength  and  weight  were 
great  advantages  now,  and  within  half  a  mile 
the  two  were  on  even  terms  again.  For  a  time 
they  raced  side  by  side,  arms  swinging  in  unison, 
legs  going  like  piston  rods.  Their  feet  were  kept 
absolutely  straight,  and  so  the  long  skates  ran 
exactly  parallel,  for  if  either  foot  should  be 
turned  in  or  out  ever  so  lightly,  one  skate  would 
cross  the  other  and  the  skater  would  be  tangled 
up  so  quickly  that  he  would  not  know  what  was 
the  matter. 

The  brothers  were  now  sliding  along  side  by 
side,  each  straining  every  nerve  to  pass  the  other; 
breath  came  in  short  puffs  and  showed  on  the 
frosty  air  like  the  exhaust  steam  of  a  locomotive ; 
perspiration  began  to  appear,  and  the  effort  they 
were  putting  forth  was  evidenced  in  the  strained 
look  on  their  faces. 

Faster  and  faster  they  went,  skimming  along 
the  level  like  a  pair  of  swallows.  They  were 
going  too  fast  to  be  careful  of  their  steps,  and 
Ben  turned  his  right  foot  a  little  in.  Instantly 
the  skates  crossed  in  front,  tripped  him,  and  down 
he  went  head  foremost  into  the  snow.  His  left 
93 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

skee  slipped  off,  flew  towards  John,  caught  be- 
tween his  legs,  and  threw  him  over  backwards. 
For  a  moment  there  was  the  utmost  confusion. 
The  boys  were  stretched  out,  heads  almost  buried 
in  the  snow,  feet  kicking  wildly,  and  the  long 
skees  beating  the  air  like  flails.  Finally  these 
were  kicked  off,  and  the  crestfallen  racers  man- 
aged to  get  right  side  up.  After  much  flounder- 
ing they  got  their  skees  on  again  and  continued 
their  journey,  this  time  at  a  more  deliberate  pace. 
They  disputed  all  the  way  home  as  to  which  was 
the  faster,  and  finally  agreed  that  the  momentous 
question  could  only  be  settled  satisfactorily  by 
another  match. 

When  they  reached  camp,  a  couple  of  boards, 
a  saw,  a  hatchet,  and  some  nails  were  secured. 
They  sawed  and  chopped  out  the  sides,  nailed  on 
a  couple  of  cross  pieces  for  the  seat  and  a  diagonal 
strip  to  brace  the  whole  thing.  This  much  was 
easy,  but  both  were  at  a  loss  to  find  anything  for 
runners  until  Ben  remembered  that  strips  of  flat 
steel  had  been  used  on  some  of  the  canned  meat 
boxes.  These  were  stripped  off,  hammered  flat, 
and  nailed  at  each  end  to  the  sides  of  what  really 
began  to  look  like  a  conventional  sled;  the  seat 
board  was  fastened  on  and  holes  were  bored  for 
the  leading  rope. 

The  boys  looked  at  their  handiwork  with  no 
94 


A  SNOW  SHOE  RACE. 

little  pride  and  pronounced  it  as  fine  a  cutter  as 
the  eastern  variety.  To  be  sure  it  was  not  beau- 
tiful to  look  at,  and  did  not  bear  any  highly  flour- 
ished name  like  "  Flyaway  "  or  "  P.  D.  Q.,"  but 
it  did  not  lack  decoration  altogether,  for  on  one 
side  was  branded  "  Use  Higgins'  Soap,"  while  the 
other  commemorated  "  Ruby  Brand  Tomatoes." 

In  spite  of  its  roughness  and  clumsiness  it  was 
possessed  of  good  speed  and  strength  enough  to 
withstand  all  the  ill-usage  the  boys  gave  it. 
When  the  snow  was  soft  they  used  broad  runners 
made  of  barrel  staves,  which  they  made  fast  to 
each  side,  and  thus  turned  their  sled  into  a 
toboggan. 

If  John  and  Ben  wanted  anything  they  had 
to  make  it  or  earn  enough  to  buy  it — money  was 
not  so  plentiful  that  it  could  be  spent  on  toys  and 
mere  amusements,  and  so  they  frequently  had  to 
devise  ways  of  getting  the  things  they  longed  for. 
John  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  must  have 
a  saddle,  bridle,  spurs,  and  quirt  (a  short,  flex- 
ible, braided  whip)  of  his  own;  and  when  he 
found  that  none  of  these  things  would  be  given 
him,  he  determined  to  earn  enough  money  to  buy 
them.  Ben,  too,  had  set  his  heart  on  owning  a 
repeating  rifle  (a  style  of  arm  that  was  rather 
rare  in  those  days)  and  so  the  brothers  agreed  to 
work  together  at  trapping,  mining,  or  turning 
95 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

a  penny  in  any  way  that  offered.  The  sum  total 
was  to  be  divided  in  the  spring,  when  each  would 
buy  the  long-desired  articles. 

As  spring  drew  near,  Mr.  Worth  decided  to 
move  along  and  open  another  mine  to  the  west- 
ward, the  first  one  being  now  in  good  working 
order. 

Again  the  family  packed  up  their  household 
goods,  abandoned  the  dug-out  that  had  sheltered 
them  during  the  long  winter  months,  and  started 
off  on  a  pilgrimage.  The  spring  was  well  ad- 
vanced and  the  verdure  of  the  prairie  was  in  its 
prime.  Wild  flowers  were  plentiful  and  the  air 
was  filled  with  the  melody  of  the  song  birds,  that 
of  the  meadow  lark  being  sweetest  and  most  sus- 
tained. Robins,  thrushes,  plover,  and  curlews — 
all  did  their  share  to  make  spring  beautiful. 

Many  prairie-dog  villages  were  passed.  The 
queer  little  beasts  sat  on  the  mounds  of  earth  be- 
side the  holes  that  served  for  homes,  their  curi- 
osity drawing  them  out.  The  travellers  took 
snap  shots  at  them,  but  they  were  as  quick  as 
lightning  and  never  stayed  above  ground  long 
enough  to  allow  of  careful  aim. 

John's  industry  had  made  him  the  proud  pos- 
sessor of  a  new  saddle,  whose  creaking  was  music 
in  his  ears,  and  even  old  Baldy  seemed  to  be 
pleased  with  his  finery,  for  he  pranced  around 


A   SNOWSHOE  RACE. 

like  a  two-year-old  and  arched  his  neck  in  a  way 
that  seemed  to  say,  "  I'm  about  the  finest  thing 
a-top  of  this  earth."  Ben  had  achieved  his  aim 
also,  and  was  the  owner  of  a  brand-new  repeating 
Spencer  rifle,  the  result  of  the  sale  of  the  winter's 
catch. 

As  the  train  went  further  westward  the  trail 
grew  more  and  more  indistinct,  and  it  became 
the  duty  of  the  boys  to  go  ahead  and  trace  it 
out.  Later,  when  even  the  barely  discernible 
wheel  tracks  had  disappeared,  it  was  necessary 
for  them  to  pick  out  the  best  route  and  also  to 
find  the  camp  sites. 

This  duty  was  a  delightful  one,  for  new  country 
was  continually  opening  before  them,  and  ad- 
ventures of  all  kinds  might  offer  at  any  moment. 

"Ain't  those  antelopes  over  there  by  that 
little  hill  ? "  said  John  one  day,  pointing  to  one 
side. 

"  That's  right,"  answered  Ben.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  chasing  them?  "  He  spoke  with  the 
authority  of  the  hunter.  Possessing  the  rifle,  no 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

opportunity  to  exploit  it  was  ever  allowed  to  slip; 
nor,  if  the  truth  be  told,  was  John  slow  in  calling 
attention  to  his  saddle,  spurs,  and  fringed  leather 
chaps. 

"  All  right,"  said  John.  "  We've  never  been 
on  an  antelope  hunt  alone." 

The  boys  went  off  at  right  angles  from  the 
direction  they  had  been  taking  and  rode  down  a 
shallow  ravine  or  coulie  in  order  to  keep  out  of 
sight  of  the  game.  They  rode  slowly  along  till 
they  reached  the  end  of  the  depression ;  here  they 
dismounted  and  each  tied  the  forelegs  of  his 
horse  with  the  rope  he  carried  on  his  saddle-horn: 
they  were  not  going  to  travel  afoot  again  if  they 
could  help  it.  It  was  now  necessary  to  cross  the 
open  prairie  in  plain  view  of  the  animals  they 
sought.  Advantage  was  token  of  a  well-known 
characteristic  of  antelopes — their  curiosity.  John 
pulled  the  handkerchief  from  his  neck  and  began 
to  wave  it  slowly  to  and  fro  over  his  head  as  he 
walked.  Ben  followed  in  his  brother's  tracks, 
making  himself  as  inconspicuous  as  possible  and 
fingering  the  lock  of  his  repeater  to  be  sure  that 
it  was  in  good  working  order. 

The  boys  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  the  flag- 
ging was  kept  up  persistently;  but  it  did  not  seem 
to  have  any  effect,  for  the  animals  were  all  look- 
ing the  other  way.  Still  they  drew  nearer ;  their 
98 


A   SNOWSEOE  RACE. 

eyes  were  fixed  on  their  quarry,  the  rifle  held 
ready,  every  nerve  tense,  each  heart  beating  furi- 
ously with  excitement. 

Then  it  was  seen  that  the  antelopes  were  at- 
tracted by  the  white  tops  of  the  wagons,  which 
were  moving  slowly  along  over  the  plain.  The 
wagon  train  was  "  flagging  "  them.  Now  if  the 
hunters  could  get  within  range  before  the  spell 
of  curiosity  had  been  satisfied,  all  would  be  well. 

The  boys  moved  cautiously  along  till  they 
came  to  a  sunken  "  buffalo  wallow,"  a  muddy 
place  frequented  by  the  bison  for  the  sake  of  the 
moisture.  This  afforded  the  shelter  that  was 
needed.  Attracted  by  the  flapping  canvas 
wagon-tops,  the  unsuspecting  animals  drew 
slowly  near  the  hiding  place. 

"Oh!  if  they  would  only  come  just  a  little 
closer,"  said  Ben  under  his  breath,  "  I'd  have 
them  sure." 

Once  they  stopped  and  sniffed  the  air,  but  just 
as  Ben  was  about  to  chance  a  long-distance  shot, 
they  moved  on  again. 

"  Now,  Ben !  "  said  John,  excitedly. 

For  an  instant  the  stock  of  the  rifle  rested 
closely  against  the  boy's  cheek — then  the  shot 
rang  out.  Almost  simultaneously  the  biggest  of 
the  herd  leaped  into  the  air,  then  fell  flat  to  the 
ground.  The  others  stood  still,  bewildered. 
99 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


"  Good  !  ifc>w  for  another  one,"  whispered 
John.  Again  the  rifle  was  raised  and  again  its 
deadly  crack  sounded  forth.  Another  antelope 
bounded  up,  ran  frantically  a  few  yards,  and 
dropped.  At  this  the  rest  of  the  herd  made  off 
like  the  wind,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  mere 
specks  on  the  horizon. 

"  Well,  I  must  say,"  said  Ben,  exultingly,  "  I 
thought  once  that  I  would  rather  have  your 
saddle  and  outfit,  but  now  —  '  he  slapped  the 
stock  of  his  rifle  affectionately  —  "  I  wouldn't 
swap  if  you  gave  me  Baldy  to  boot." 

"Baldy  to  boot,  eh?  AVhy,  I  wouldn't  swap 
that  horse  for  a  whole  stack  of  rifles."  And 
John  moved  off  in  indignation  to  get  the  horses, 
while  Ben  went  over  to  the  spot  where  the  game 
lay. 

The  carcasses  were  packed  on  Ben's  horse,  both 
boys  mounting  Baldy.  They  were  welcomed 
heartily  at  the  camp,  for  fresh  meat  was  at  a  pre- 
mium, and  any  change  of  diet  was  an  event  of 
prime  importance. 

"  That  gun  of  yours  must  be  chained  light- 
ning," said  Ted.  "  I  didn't  suppose  you  could 
hit  the  side  of  a  hill  at  fifty  yards." 

Many  days  of  travelling  followed  over  country 
that  had  apparently  never  been  covered  by  a 
wagon  before. 

100 


A   SNOWSHOE  RACE. 

During  this  long  journey  the  boys  came  to 
know  the  men  of  the  party  very  well.  They 
were  apt  to  be  sharply  divided  into  good  and  bad, 
for  in  those  rough  times  people  showed  their  real 
characters  without  reserve. 

Charley  Green  still  continued  with  the  com- 
pany, and  he  was  the  boys'  greatest  friend;  but 
Tom  Malloy,  who  joined  the  expedition  just  be- 
fore it  started  out  for  the  new  camp,  soon  got 
into  John's  good  graces.  He  was  a  man  of  va- 
ried talents:  a  gambler  and  saloon  keeper  when 
times  were  good;  a  miner, cow-puncher, or  hunter 
when  his  money  ran  out.  Rough,  quick-tem- 
pered, and  as  ready  with  his  fists  as  with  his 
"  gun,"  he  was  nevertheless  possessed  of  a  great 
heart  and  a  loyalty  to  his  friends  that  nothing 
could  shake.  Like  many  of  his  race  he  loved  a 
fight  and  delighted  to  have  a  lively  "  argument  " 
with  a  man.  John's  boldness  and  aggressiveness 
pleased  him  greatly,  and  he  looked  the  boy  over, 
enumerating  his  good  points  over  to  himself :  his 
broad  chest,  sturdy  legs  and  arms,  his  clear  eyes 
and  fearless  look  all  showed  to  Malloy's  experi- 
enced eye  that  he  would  make  a  first-rate  boxer. 

"  I'll  show  that  youngster  how  to  put  up  his 
hands  sure,"  he  said  to  himself. 

It  was  a  tiresome  journey,  long  and  monoto- 
nous, but  enlivened  now  and  then  by  a  hunt  or 
101 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

an  excursion.  The  train  was  to  go  by  way  of 
the  Hart  River  road,  and  it  seemed  to  the 
younger  members  of  the  expedition  as  if  it  would 
never  be  reached.  But  find  it  at  last  they  did, 
a  few  wagon  ruts  not  very  clear  nor  strongly 
marked. 

The  boys'  task  was  now  much  easier,  for  the 
way  was  marked  plainly  before  them  and  it  was 
comparatively  smooth  travelling.  Many  wide 
excursions  were  made  on  either  side  of  the  trail, 
and  many  hunting  expeditions  were  indulged  in. 
Ben  became  a  very  good  shot,  and  the  constant 
supply  of  fresh  meat  gave  evidence  of  his  skill. 

After  many  days'  journey  the  "  Bad  Lands  " 
were  reached.  That  desolate  country,  scarred 
and  pitted,  was  void  of  vegetation  except  on  the 
bottoms  and  near  the  infrequent  water  courses. 
Here  the  wagon  road  disappeared  altogether,  and 
the  pioneers  found  it  necessary  in  many  cases 
practically  to  build  one,  to  level  some  places  and 
make  inclines  down  steep  banks  at  others.  Often 
all  the  teams  had  to  be  hitched  to  one  wagon  in 
order  to  drag  it  up  a  sharp  ascent  or  through  a 
miry  place. 

In  many  spots  the  ground  was  very  treacher- 
ous, especially  at  the  edge  of  a  cut.  The  soil  was 
loose,  pliable  stuff,  liable  to  give  way  under  the 
weight  of  a  horse.  Badger  and  gopher  holes 
102 


A   SNOWSHOE  RACE. 

added  to  the  danger  by  undermining  the  banks 
in  unexpected  places. 

One  morning  John  was  sent  out  on  Baldy  (his 
constant  companion  and  faithful  friend)  to  pick 
out,  if  possible,  an  easier  way.  Boy  and  horse 
started  out  on  a  smart  trot,  each  having  full  con- 
fidence in  the  other — as  was  necessary,  for  almost 
as  much  depended  on  the  sagacity  of  the  steed  in 
the  matter  of  picking  a  way  on  dangerous  ground 
as  in  the  intelligence  of  the  rider.  It  was  a  task 
of  considerable  responsibility  that  was  put  on 
John's  shoulders;  the  route  was  difficult  enough 
to  puzzle  a  professional  civil  engineer.  Baldy 
was  left  to  find  his  own  way  while  his  rider  looked 
ahead-to  choose  a  road  that  could  be  travelled  by 
the  wagons.  From  time  to  time  it  became  neces- 
sary to  go  down  the  almost  perpendicular  side  of 
a  coulie,  when  the  horse  would  hunch  his  hind- 
legs,  keeping  his  forelegs  stiff  and  stretched  out 
to  their  fullest  extent.  Then  he  would  fairly 
slide  down  on  his  tail. 

John  had  found  a  place  that  he  thought  suit- 
able for  the  night's  camp,  had  traced  out  a  way 
by  which  it  might  be  reached,  and  had  turned  his 
pony  back  towards  the  wagons. 

He  thought  to  himself,  as  they  slid  down  one 
bank  and  scrambled  up  the  other,  that  it  would 
be  a  bad  place  to  be  thrown.  The  surface  was 
103 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

pitted  with  half-concealed  badger  holes,  and  in 
the  bottoms  were  many  spots  where  a  horse  might 
easily  be  mired.  Baldy,  however,  knew  his  busi- 
ness and  carried  his  rider  over  awkward  places 
safely.  John  was  congratulating  himself  on  the 
successful  conclusion  of  his  errand  when  he  came 
to  the  bank  of  what  was  in  the  early  spring  a 
roaring  torrent,  but  which  now  lacked  even  a 
trickle  of  water.  To  the  edge  of  this  cut  Baldy 
approached  cautiously.  John,  anxious  to  get  back 
to  the  wagons  and  report,  urged  him  on.  "With 
a  shake  of  his  head  that  seemed  to  say :  "  Well, 
you  are  the  boss,  so  here  goes;  but  I  don't  like  the 
looks  of  it,"  the  pony  went  forward,  gathering 
his  hind  legs  under  him  to  make  his  usual  slide — 
when  the  ground  beneath  him  gave  way.  Horse 
and  rider  went  rolling  down  the  slope,  but  as 
John  felt  himself  falling  he  loosened  his  foot 
from  the  stirrup  and  leaped  off,  just  in  time.  Boy 
and  steed  arrived  at  the  bottom  about  the  same 
time,  but  separately.  John's  mouth,  eyes,  nose, 
and  ears  were  full  of  dirt  and  dried  grass;  in  fact, 
he  always  declared  that  he  ate  his  proverbial  peck 
of  dirt  then,  all  at  once;  but  he  soon  discovered 
that,  barring  a  few  bruises  and  a  badly  hurt  pride, 
he  was  all  right.  As  soon  as  he  got  the  dust 
out  of  his  eyes  and  realized  that  the  earth  had  not 
risen,  out  of  special  spite  against  him,  he  looked 
104 


"CROW  HAT'S  FACINO  THIS  WAY."     (Pnge  117.) 


THE    INDIAN    CAMP.       (Pag?  116.) 


A   SNOWSHOE  RACE. 

for  his  horse,  and  was  much  relieved  to  find  that 
his  four-footed  partner  had  received  nothing 
more  than  a  bad  shaking  up.  Baldy's  attitude, 
however,  was  anything  but  dignified.  His  feet 
were  waving  in  air,  his  head  was  buried  in  the 
loose  soil,  his  body  was  so  covered  with  mother 
earth  that  he  seemed  like  some  strange  freak  of 
nature.  As  the  boy  got  up,  the  horse  looked  at 
him,  he  thought,  reproachfully  and  seemed  to 
say:  "  I  told  you  so." 

"  Yes,  old  chap,"  replied  John  aloud,  "  you  do 
know  a  thing  or  two,  and  I'll  trust  you  more  next 
time." 

John  never  told  of  his  mistake  and  tumble,  but 
explained  the  dusty  appearance  of  himself  and 
horse  by  reference  to  the  well-known  character- 
istic of  the  "  Bad  Lands,"  its  stifling  alkali  dust. 


105 


CHAPTER   VII. 


A    BUFFALO    HUNT. 

Many  weeks  were  spent  in  the  migration,  and 
it  became  exceedingly  monotonous  and  tiresome 
before  their  destination  was  at  last  sighted. 
When,  one  beautiful  afternoon,  Mr.  Worth 
pointed  ahead  to  a  rolling  knoll  covered  with 
trees  and  announced  that  there  was  their  future 
home,  John  and  Ben  set  up  a  wild  cheer  and 
dashed  ahead  to  examine  the  spot.  Camp  was 
pitched  on  the  banks  of  the  Yellowstone,  and 
dug-outs  were  made — the  cave  part  first  and  then 
the  outer  portion  of  substantial  logs.  Two  large 
cabins  were  constructed  for  the  family's  dwelling 
and  kitchen,  and  several  more  for  the  men,  of 
whom  there  were  many,  this  being  an  important 
mine. 

No  time  was  lost  in  settling,  and  in  an  incred- 
ibly short  while  the  household  belongings  were  in 
place,  the  provisions  stowed  away  safely,  and  the 
regular  camp  routine  begun.  It  was  necessary 
to  get  a  considerable  portion  of  the  tunnel  driven 
106 


A   BUFFALO  HUNT. 


before  frost  came.  The  opening  was  made  hori- 
zontally into  the  side  of  the  hill  and  continued  in 
a  straight  line  until  the  vein  of  coal  was  struck, 
when  the  tunnel  had  to  follow  it  in  whatever 
direction  it  went. 

The  boys  were  to  be  initiated  into  real  miner's 
work  at  this  camp.  They  were  well  grown, 
strong  lads,  fully  able  to  do  their  share.  During 
the  preliminary  digging  of  the  drift  they  did 
little  beyond  their  regular  chores,  except  to  drive 
the  teams  that  carted  away  the  earth  from  the 
mouth  of  the  cave. 

The  important  duty  of  supplying  the  camp 
with  fresh  meat  was  also  entrusted  to  them,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  every  haunt  of  furred  and 
feathered  thing  that  lived  within  a  radius  of 
miles  around  was  known  to  them. 

Within  a  few  weeks  after  the  establishment 
of  the  camp  all  preliminary  work  had  been  com- 
pleted and  the  mine  was  ready  for  business.  To 
facilitate  the  delivery  of  coal  to  daylight,  a  rough 
railroad  had  been  built;  its  tracks  were  of  wood, 
its  rolling  stock  one  small,  four-wheeled  box  car, 
its  motive  power,  Jerry  the  mule.  Of  this  under- 
ground railway  John  was  installed  as  president, 
board  of  directors,  general  manager,  inspector 
general,  passenger  and  freight  agent,  chief  engi- 
neer, and  superintendent  of  motive  power.  One 
107 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

day  he  was  engaged  in  his  many  brain-taxing 
duties,  the  most  trying  of  which  was  keeping  the 
motive  power  "  moting."  The  flaring  lamp  in 
his  hat  showed  but  little  of  the  mule's  tough  hide, 
but  that  little  the  superintendent  belabored 
lustily.  The  little  car  rumbled  and  bumped 
along  the  rough  wooden  rails  on  its  way  to  one 
of  the  rooms  where  the  coal  was  being  dug. 
John  whistled  cheerily  to  himself  and  occasion- 
ally interrupted  the  melody  to  shout  into  the 
mule's  wagging  ears :  "  Git  up,  Jerry !  "  Soon 
a  point  of  yellow  light  appeared  far  off  in  the 
darkness,  and  as  the  lumbering  car  went  on  it 
grew  in  size  and  strength  until  its  nature  could 
be  made  out  distinctly. 

"  Hello,  Ben,"  shouted  the  young  driver  to  his 
brother,  whose  cap-light  had  showed  so  clearly 
up  the  tunnel.  "  You'd  better  oil  the  hinges  of 
that  door;  they  squeak  like  a  hungry  rat." 

The  mule  had  stopped  before  a  great  door 
which  blocked  the  way;  it  was  so  placed  as  to 
change  the  ventilating  current  of  air,  and  it  was 
Ben's  duty  to  open  and  close  it  after  each  loaded 
or  empty  car.  He  sat  in  a  little  recess  of  the 
wall  and  pulled  the  door  open  and  shut  with  the 
aid  of  a  rope. 

"  It's  mighty  lonesome  here,"  said  he.  "  Seems 
as  if  I  couldn't  stand  it  sometimes,  so  I  brought 
108 


A   BUFFALO  HUNT. 

along  the  '  Arabian  Mghts  '  to-day.  Been  read- 
ing about  Aladdin ;  he  was  underground,  too,  but 
all  he  had  to  do  was  to  rub  a  lamp  and  he  just 
wallowed  in  pearls,  diamonds,  and  things,  while 
I  sit  here  all  day  for  half  a  dollar,  and  do  nothing 
but  open  and  shut  this  door  for  you  and  your 
old  mule." 

"  Yes,  I  know  all  about  him,"  answered  John, 
as  he  drove  through  the  doorway. 

"  'Tisn't  true,  any  way,"  shouted  Ben  after 
him.  "  Couldn't  be.  Aladdin  was  a  Chinaman, 
and  no  Chink  ever  made  even  a  dollar  a  day." 

"  Guess  you're  right,  but  don't  get  lonesome," 
the  voice  came  echoing  back  through  the  dark- 
ness, mingled  with  the  rumble  of  the  car  and  the 
sharp  slap  of  the  stick  on  poor  Jerry's  flank. 

For  a  month  or  more  John  continued  to  drive 
the  mule  and  Ben  tended  the  door.  It  was  late 
one  afternoon,  and  the  younger  boy  was  feeling 
very  tired  of  living  away  from  the  sun  and  the 
bright  fresh  air;  the  darkness  and  dankness  op- 
pressed him  not  a  little,  so  he  was  glad  to  hear 
John's  strong  voice  singing: 


' '  Down  in  the  coal  mine, 

Underneath  the  ground, 
Digging  dusky  diamonds 
All  the  year  around." 

109 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

"  I'd  sing  too  if  I  was  getting  a  dollar  'stead  of 
a  half,  and  had  a  chance  to  see  daylight  once  in 
a  while,"  grumbled  Ben  as  his  brother  stopped 
to  talk  a  bit. 

"Hold  on  a  while  and  don't  get  excited,"  coun- 
selled the  elder.  "  I'm  going  to  be  promoted, 
and  what's  the  matter  with  you  moving  up  too?  " 

"Why?  How?"  inquired  the  discontented 
one  eagerly. 

"  I'm  going  to  be  a  regular  miner ;  going  to 
work  with  Bill  Cooper,  best  miner  out,  father 
says." 

"  Then  I'll  drive  Jerry  and  gather  in  the 
dollar,"  cried  Ben.  "  But  who'll  tend  door?  " 

For  a  minute  the  boy's  face  showed  his  dis- 
appointment; then  he  smiled  again  as  the 
thought  came  of  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty.  A 
friendly  Indian  camp  was  located  across  the 
river,  and  the  boys,  white  and  red,  often  came 
together  for  all  sorts  of  sports. 

"  Why  not  get  '  Coyote-on-a-hill '  to  work  the 
door  while  I  run  the  car?  "  said  Ben  exultingly. 
"  He'd  be  scared  to  death  at  first,  but  I'll  tell  him 
about  the  fifty  cents  a  day  and  that  will  brace  his 
nerve." 

And  so  it  turned  out.     The  Indian  boy  took 
Ben's  place,  while  John  turned  over  Jerry  to  his 
brother  and  cast  in  his  fortunes  with  Bill  Cooper. 
110 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

"  Coyote-on-a-hill "  was  pretty  badly  scared 
the  first  day,  but  Ben  gave  him  a  word  of  encour- 
agement whenever  he  went  by,  and  never  failed 
to  remind  him  of  the  money  he  was  making,  so 
he  stuck  it  out  like  a  man,  and  presently  got 
quite  used  to  the  dreary  darkness. 

Both  of  the  A\rorth  boys  expressed  themselves 
as  pleased  with  the  change;  what  Jerry  thought 
of  it  he  never  remarked. 

John  found  his  new  work  anything  but  easy. 
Bill  Cooper  was  a  fearless  miner  and  a  hard 
worker,  and  his  assistant  had  all  he  could  do  to 
keep  up  with  the  task  set  for  him.  It  was  neces- 
sary first  to  cut  under  the  mass  of  coal  that  was 
to  be  dislodged;  to  do  this  John  had  to  lie  on  his 
side  and  so  swing  his  pick  in  a  cramped  position. 
To  make  the  vertical  cut  was  not  much  easier, 
for  he  found  it  hard  to  work  squeezed  in  between 
the  walls  of  coal  as  the  crevice  deepened.  The 
bottom  and  side  cuts  made,  he  bored  holes  (round 
holes  with  a  flat  drill,  the  knack  of  which  he  ac- 
quired only  after  long  practice  and  a  choice  col- 
lection of  smashed  fingers)  and  then  tamped  in 
the  paper  cartridge  of  powder.  When  the  fuse 
was  in  place,  all  that  was  needed  to  complete  the 
work  was  a  light  from  his  lamp.  The  former 
was  plain,  straightforward  hard  work,  the  latter 
sport.  The  fuse  lay  like  a  snake  just  sliding  into 
111 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

its  hole,  the  place  was  quiet  as  death  and  as  dark 
as  a  tomb,  except  where  the  flickering  glare  of 
the  young  miner's  lamp  shone;  his  face  was  cov- 
ered with  coal  dust,  through  which  his  eyes 
peered  with  unnatural  prominence. 

He  wTould  take  the  lamp  from  his  cap,  stoop 
down  and  touch  the  bare  flame  to  the  end  of  the 
snake  fuse;  it  would  immediately  begin  to  sputter 
sparks,  and  as  John  drew  back  for  safety  he  could 
watch  it  eat  its  way  towards  the  black  wall  and 
the  powder  within  it.  The  red  sparks  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  the  hole,  then,  after  a  spiteful 
little  shower,  disappeared.  It  seemed  a  long  time 
to  the  miner  waiting  behind  his  protecting  shield 
before  the  rending,  shaking  report  sounded,  fol- 
lowed by  the  glare  of  the  explosion  and  the  rattle 
of  the  falling  coal.  Then  Ben  soon  turned  up 
with  Jerry,  and  both  boys  shovelled  the  loose  coal 
of  varying-sized  lumps  into  the  car. 

Bill  Cooper,  though  insisting  that  John  must 
do  his  share,  generally  took  the  hardest  and  most 
dangerous  places  himself;  so  it  came  about  one 
day  that  the  boy  worked  at  the  vertical  cut  while 
his  partner  cut  under,  propping  up  the  mass  of 
coal  (with  wooden  logs  cut  for  the  purpose)  as 
he  went  in  deeper. 

The  work  was  hard,  and  neither  man  nor  boy 
spent  any  breath  in  talking.  The  dull  ring  of 
112 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

the  pick  was  the  only  sound.  Deeper  and  deeper 
grew  the  crevice;  soon  only  John's  foot  was  vis- 
ible and  Cooper  had  disappeared  entirely  under 
the  overhanging  ledge  of  coal;  only  the  faint 
glowing  of  the  light  and  the  sound  of  the  tools 
betrayed  the  workmen.  It  was  dirty,  tiring, 
dangerous  work.  At  any  moment  that  great 
mass  of  mineral  might  fall  if  the  supports  were 
not  properly  placed  or  the  king-brace  happened 
to  be  lodged  in  a  soft  spot. 

"  Come  out  if  you  want  to  save  your  skin, 
Bill,"  cried  John  suddenly.  "  I  hear  it  popping 
and  working  all  around,  and  it's  beginning  to 
move." 

"  In  a  minute.  Wait  till  I  dig  out  this  far 
corner."  His  voice  seemed  to  come  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  and  had  such  an  uncanny 
sound  that  John  shivered. 

"  Hurry !  !Never  mind  the  corner — it's  going 
to  fall.  Come  out,  quick!  "  John's  voice  had 
such  a  note  of  fear  and  entreaty  in  it  that  the 
man  below  was  impressed. 

"  All  right,"  he  said,  "  I'll  come  right  along." 

The  boy  stopped  working  and  listened.  There 
was  a  peculiar  sliding  sound  that  filled  the  air 
all  about  him,  and  from  time  to  time  a  stone 
dropped  to  the  floor  with  an  echoing  rattle. 

"  Come  out."      With  an  appalling  roar  the 

8  113 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

great  mass  of  coal  came  down.  John  was  badly 
squeezed,  his  light  was  extinguished,  and  all  the 
breath  was  knocked  out  of  him,  but  he  managed 
to  work  himself  free  and  make  his  way  to  the 
room.  His  only  thought  was  of  Bill,  under  that 
heap  of  coal  somewhere,  and  of  the  need  of 
help. 

He  rushed  along  blindly  through  the  solid 
darkness,  his  hands  outstretched  before  him, 
shouting  as  he  went,  "  Help,  quick!  " 

Some  men  who  were  working  in  the  entry  an- 
swered him. 

"  What's  up?  "  they  asked. 

"  Help !     Bill  lies  under  a  whole  lot  of  coal." 

They  hurried  to  the  coal  face,  and  John 
showed  them  where  he  thought  the  imprisoned 
man  lay,  buried  under  tons  of  coal;  the  men, 
seizing  picks,  wedges,  and  sledges,  began  work- 
ing frantically  to  rescue  their  comrade. 

For  half  an  hour  they  toiled  as  they  never 
toiled  before.  Then  there  was  a  cry  of  horror. 
The  body  was  found.  The  poor  fellow's  arms 
were  raised  in  the  very  act  of  swinging  his  pick, 
and  he  evidently  had  had  an  instant  and  well- 
nigh  painless  death. 

"  Well,  boys,  I  hope  mine  comes  as  easy  as 
his,"  said  old  Mike  McGuire,  who  had  witnessed 
many  a  similar  scene. 

114 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

They  took  up  the  body  gently  and  tenderly 
laid  it  in  the  car,  the  mule  was  unhitched,  and 
the  miners  pushed  it  slowly  to  the  open  air,  the 
whole  force  following. 

On  Sunday  Bill's  sorrowing  comrades  buried 
him.  Mr.  Worth  read  a  few  verses  from  the 
camp's  only  Bible,  offered  a  short  prayer,  and  the 
simple  ceremony  was  over. 

Of  Bill  Cooper,  like  many  of  the  men  of  that 
time,  little  was  known,  and  if  any  one  should 
question  as  to  his  origin  he  would  probably  be 
answered  with,  "  Came  from  the  East,  I  guess." 
He  had  made  many  friends,  but  none  felt  his 
tragic  death  more  than  his  young  partner. 

After  this  the  work  became  irksome.  John 
did  not  get  along  so  well  with  his  new  partner, 
and  often  when  he  stopped  to  rest  the  sight  came 
before  his  eyes  of  his  dead  friend  as  he  lay  under 
the  black  shroud  of  coal.  Nevertheless,  he  toiled 
away  faithfully,  and  seemed  in  a  fair  way  of  be- 
coming an  expert  coal  miner. 

It  was  now  well  towards  midwinter,  and  the 
boys  began  to  long  after  some  skating  on  the 
clear  ice  which  had  for  some  time  covered  the 
river  completely.  Alec  was  a  handy  blacksmith, 
and  at  their  entreaties  he  set  to  work  and  fash- 
ioned them  two  pairs  of  rough  but  very  service- 
able skates.  Since  skating  on  the  ice  was  some- 
115 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

thing  the  boys  had  never  learned,  they  had  to  get 
Yumping  Yim,  the  Swede,  to  teach,  them  how 
to  use  these  new  acquisitions.  Though  they 
were  rude  affairs,  the  boys,  whose  muscles  were 
developed  by  snowshoeing,  soon  managed  to 
make  good  headway  on  the  river.  In  a  sharp 
spin  down  the  glassy  surface  after  the  day's  work 
was  over  they  could  forget  that  their  backs  ached 
and  their  arms  were  heavy  as  lead.  The  brisk 
wind  and  change  of  exercise  was  like  a  tonic  to 
them,  and  though  the  air-holes  in  the  ice  made 
night  skating  rather  dangerous,  it  only  added  zest 
to  their  enjoyment. 

As  the  boys  skimmed  past  the  Indian  camp, 
which  was  a  large  one,  they  sometimes  found  a 
whole  delegation  of  young  savages  out  to  watch 
their  progress.  The  Indians  had  never  seen 
skates  before,  and  their  wonder  and  interest  were 
great.  This  camp,  in  turn,  greatly  interested 
the  white  boys;  as  they  lay  in  bed  they  could 
hear  the  fium-bum-bum-bum  of  the  medicine 
man's  tom-tom  come  booming  monotonously  over 
the  river.  This  sound  continued  so  everlastingly 
every  night  that  the  boys'  curiosity  was  aroused 
and  they  determined  to  see  what  the  medicine 
man  did  besides  making  such  a  row. 

After  dark  one  night,  they  stole  out  and  over 
to  the  red  men's  lodges,  traced  tht  booming 
116 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

noise,  and  finally,  after  great  care  and  much 
dodging — for  the  Indian  will  not  tolerate  any- 
spying  on  or  interference  with  what  he  considers 
sacred — they  reached  the  tepee  from  which  the 
sound  came;  then  they  crept  round  to  the  open- 
ing flap  and  John  cautiously  thrust  his  head  in, 
but  quickly  withdrew  it. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  whispered  Ben. 

"  Old  Crow  Hat's  facing  this  way.  I  was 
afraid  he'd  see  us,"  John  answered.  "  Let's  look 
under  this  side." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  boys  lifted 
the  side  of  the  tent-like  lodge  and  gazed  at  the 
old  medicine  man.  He  was  seated  before  the 
fire,  his  tom-tom  between  his  knees,  his  head 
bowed  low,  and  his  long  hair  hanging  over  his 
face  (an  uncommon  condition,  for  the  red  men 
generally  keep  their  hair  most  neatly  parted). 
Crow  Hat  swayed  to  and  fro  in  time  with  the 
slow  beating  of  his  drum,  and  as  he  swung  he 
chanted,  il  Eeyuh!  Eeyuh!  Eeyuh! "  raising 
and  lowering  his  voice  as  the  tom-tom  was  beaten 
loudly  or  softly.  Long  the  boys  watched  him, 
fascinated  by  the  weird  sound.  Suddenly  he 
began  to  thump  his  drum  furiously  and  his  voice 
rose  from  a  low  half-grunt  to  a  shriek.  The 
"Eeyuh!  Eeyuh!"  was  now  like  the  wail  of  a 
fierce  wind. 

117 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  boys'  strained 
nerves.  They  backed  away  hurriedly  and  made 
for  home,  and  it  was  some  time  before  the  sound 
of  that  last  frenzied  cry  died  out  of  their  ears. 

Bill  Cooper's  end  had  a  great  effect  on  John, 
and  he  was  glad  of  the  first  opportunity  to  get  out 
of  the  black  hole  and  into  the  open  air.  Indeed, 
both  boys  welcomed  the  work  of  cutting  and 
hauling  props  for  the  mine,  which  fell  to  them 
soon  after  their  night  visit  to  the  Indians. 

The  elder  was  busily  working  unloading  props 
at  the  mine  entrance  one  day  when  Ben  came 
down  to  him  excitedly :  "  Say,  John,"  he  cried, 
"  a  squaw  just  came  down  from  the  big  flat  and 
she  says  she  saw  some  buffalo  over  beyond  the 
camp.  The  Indians  over  the  creek  are  saddling 
up  to  go  for  them.  Can't  we  go?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  John,  excited  in  turn. 
"  You'll  have  to  ask  father.  Go  on  up  and  see 
him  while  I  finish  this  job." 

The  youngster  went  off  on  the  run,  and  in  a 
moment  returned.  One  look  at  his  face  was 
sufficient  to  show  John  that  he  had  the  desired 
permission. 

The  mules  were  unhitched  and  turned  out  for 

the  day.     Baldy  and  Ben's  horse  were  quickly 

saddled,  rifles,  belts,  and  cartridges  were  slung 

on,  and  in  a  twinkling  the  two  young  hunters 

118 


THE    BIGGEST    GAME   THE   COUNTRY    AFFORDKD.       (Pf'ffe  119.) 


A    SQUAW      .       .       .       JUST    SAW    SOME   BUFFALO.       (Page  118.) 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

were  off  after  the  biggest  game  the  country  af- 
forded. 

When  they  got  to  the  camp  they  found  that 
most  of  the  bucks  had  already  started,  but  old 
"  Wolf  Voice/'  a  minor  chief  with  whom  the 
boys  had  made  friends,  still  remained. 

"There's  Wolf  Voice;  he'll  let  us  go  with 
him,"  said  John.  "  Hello,  can  we  go  with  you?  " 
he  shouted  to  the  old  man.  /  / 

"You    got    good    horse?      Me    go    quick,"  '• 
grunted  the  brave. 

"  I  guess  we'll  keep  up,"  and  Baldy  danced  as 
if  to  show  his  mettle.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
were  on  their  way  up  the  slope  to  the  plateau 
which  surrounded  the  camping  place.  Baldy 
kept  up  easily  with  the  Indian's  pony  and  Wolf 
Voice  turned  after  they  had  covered  a  mile  at  a 
round  pace.  "  Heap  good  horse,"  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  replied  John.  "  He  can  beat  anything 
around  here  in  a  half-mile  run.  Want  to  try 
now?/' 

The  temptation  was  great,  for  the  pony  the 
chief  rode  was  his  best,  but  the  thought  of  the 
chase  restrained  him.  "Plenty  ride  soon,"  hesaid. 

The  level  reached,  the  boys  found  that  the 
great  shaggy  beasts  were  already  surrounded,  so 
they  took  a  place  in  the  circle  and  waited  im- 
patiently for  a  chance  at  the  game. 
119 


CATTLE   RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

With  a  yell  the  Indians  rode  towards  the  dazed 
animals,  who  now  separated  and  began  to  run 
frantically  in  all  directions.  The  party  of  hunt- 
ers, of  whom  there  were  about  twenty-five,  also 
split  up  into  little  groups,  and  each  party  chased 
a  buffalo.  One  of  the  animals  came  towards  the 
boys. 

"  Get  out  of  his  way,"  yelled  John  to  his 
brother,  "  and  let  him  pass  between  us.  Then 
fire  as  he  goes." 

The  great  lumbering  beast  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  as  they  watched,  ready  to  spring 
away  in  case  he  should  charge  them,  they  noticed 
that  he  was  being  followed  far  off  by  an  Indian. 

"  Now  shoot,"  shouted  John,  as  the  quarry 
rushed  by.  Both  rifles  rang  out,  but  the  buffalo 
passed  on  without  showing  a  sign  of  being  hit. 
Immediately  Ben's  horse  bolted  with  him,  but 
Baldy  stood  his  ground  till  his  rider  urged  him 
after  the  fleeing  game.  John  held  his  rifle  ready 
to  make  a  safe  shot  when  opportunity  offered. 
The  horse  was  now  gaining  rapidly,  but  hearing 
the  thump  of  hoofs  behind  him  and  then  an  In- 
dian yelling,  he  turned  his  head  and  saw  that 
Big  Hawk,  a  young  brave,  was  shouting  some- 
thing. He  could  not  hear  what  it  was,  however, 
and  paid  no  attention. 

The  race  continued,  and  John's  whole  thought 
120 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

was  to  get  in  a  good  shot.  Zip !  it  was  the  unmis- 
takable sound  of  a  bullet,  and  as  the  boy  turned 
to  see  from  whence  it  came,  zip!  another  bullet 
went  humming  by:  the  Indian  was  firing  from 
behind,  and  the  shots  were  coming  unpleasantly 
close.  John  drew  Baldy  to  one  side  just  in  time 
to  get  out  of  the  pathway  of  another  leaden 
pellet. 

This  last  shot  caught  the  buffalo  in  the  leg, 
and  he  lunged  forward  on  his  massive  head.  Big 
Hawk  then  rode  up  and  riddled  him  with  bullets. 

John  was  angry  clear  through. 

"  The  coward,"  he  muttered.  "  Might  have 
hit  me — 'twasn't  his  fault  he  didn't  either.  Any- 
body could  do  up  a  buffalo  from  behind.  'Fraid 
I'd  get  him,  I  guess.  See  that?  "  he  added  as 
Ben  came  up. 

Ben  was  indignant  too,  and  both  boys  went 
up  to  where  the  young  buck  was  skinning  the 
scarcely  dead  beast,  determined  to  have  their 
share.  The  Indian  protested  against  sharing  the 
game,  but  Wolf  Voice  happened  to  come  up  at 
this  moment,  and,  with  the  authority  of  a  chief, 
soon  settled  the  dispute  by  giving  the  boys  a  fine 
hind  quarter.  This  they  lashed  securely  with  a 
lariat  on  Ben's  horse.  Then  both  rode  off  tri- 
umphantly on  Baldy. 


121 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A    CLOSE    FINISH. 

"  Boys,  you'll  have  to  go  and  hunt  those  spare 
nniles  to-morrow;  they  haven't  been  seen  for  a 
week."  Thus  Mr.  Worth  greeted  the  boys  as 
they  came  shuffling  in  after  a  long  day  of 
mingled  work  and  play  one  evening  not  long 
after  the  buffalo  hunt. 

The  following  morning  the  youngsters 
mounted  their  horses,  after  completing  their 
early  chores,  and  started  out.  "  Where  shall  we 
go?  "  asked  Ben. 

"  Let's  look  among  the  Indians'  ponies ;  those 
mules  are  always  following  their  cayuses 
around."  The  plan  was  no  sooner  made  than 
executed.  They  trotted  along  the  edge  of  the 
river  for  several  miles,  the  crisp  morning  air  act- 
ing like  a  tonic  on  horse  and  rider.  Baldy  was 
too  old  and  dignified  to  be  foolish,  but  his  springy 
stride,  wide-awake  look,  and  quick  response  to 
each  word  of  urging  betokened  his  good  condi- 
122 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

tion  and  enjoyment.  Ben's  horse,  a  little  bunchy 
cow  pony  with  an  occasional  wicked  streak  in  him, 
danced  about  as  if  he  were  worked  by  electri- 
city and  the  current  was  being  turned  on  and  off. 

The  ford  reached,  the  ponies  waded  in  till  the 
boys  had  to  cross  their  legs  in  front  of  the  saddles 
to  keep  from  getting  wet. 

On  the  other  side  they  found  a  bunch  of  a 
couple  of  hundred  horses,  and  as  they  drew  near 
the  herders  came  charging  down  on  them.  They 
feared  horse  thieves,  but  John  explained  matters, 
and  after  a  long  sign-language  talk  learned  that 
there  were  six  of  the  long-eared  runaways  tied 
at  the  camp.  They  had  been  put  there  for  safe 
keeping,  since  they  had  been  killing  colts  and 
were  in  danger  of  being  roughly  used  by  the 
horses  in  consequence.  A  grown  "  pony," 
though  generally  smaller,  will  drive  out  a  mule 
in  short  order,  and  these  plucky  little  animals 
are  never  afraid  to  tackle  their  vicious  antago- 
nists. 

The  boys  went  back  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river  from  which  they  had  come  until  the  camp 
was  reached. 

They  found  the  Indian  village  all  agog  with 

excitement,  and  for  a  time  could  not  get  any  of 

the  braves  to  answer  their  inquiries  about  the 

missing  mules.     A  horse  race  was  to  be  held,  and 

123 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

the  usually  stoical  bucks  could  for  the  time  being 
think  of  nothing  else. 

The  whereabouts  of  the  missing  animals  was 
learned  before  long,  however,  and  an  Indian 
went  with  them  to  see  that  they  really  belonged 
to  the  Worth  outfit.  On  their  way  they  had  to 
pass  straight  through  the  village  of  several  hun- 
dred tepees,  and  many  were  the  greetings  of 
"  How !  "  that  were  shouted  to  them. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  camp  many  braves 
were  standing  around,  making  bets,  grooming 
their  horses,  and  comparing  notes.  Little  red- 
skins darted  everywhere  in  and  out  between  their 
elders'  legs  and  shouted  shrilly  to  each  other. 
The  boys  found  it  hard  to  go  on  to  attend  to  their 
errand,  and  though  neither  said  anything  for  a 
while,  they  looked  appealingly  at  each  other. 
"  If  \ve  find  the  mules  belong  to  us,"  said  John, 
finally,  in  answer  to  Ben's  questioning  look, 
"  we'll  take  'em  part  way  back,  tie  'em,  and  then 
come  here  and  see  the  races."  So  they  went  on 
reluctantly,  leaving  the  gesticulating,  grunting 
crowd  behind  them. 

The  captive  animals  were,  as  they  hoped,  the 
ones  they  had  been  seeking,  and  if  the  guide 
had  any  doubts  of  their  ownership  the  big  "W 
branded  on  the  shoulder  of  each  beast  soon  dis- 
pelled them.  "  Lucky  there's  a  fort  near  by," 
124 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

said  John.  "  We'd  never  have  seen  those  critters 
again  if  there  hadn't  been."  The  mules  were 
driven  back  to  a  point  convenient  of  access  on 
the  trip  back  to  the  mine  and  tied  securely. 
Then  both  boys  rushed  over  to  the  course  as  fast 
as  their  ponies  could  go. 

Nothing  had  changed;  the  men  still  talked 
excitedly,  and  on  either  side  of  the  level  space 
where  the  horses  were  to  run  lay  little  heaps  of 
personal  belongings  that  had  been  bet  on  this  or 
that  horse — saddles,  blankets,  gay  bead-embroid- 
ered moccasins,  and  belts,  rifles,  and  cartridges. 

As  the  boys  drew  near,  old  "Wolf  Voice  started 
toward  them  writh  greater  speed  than  befitted  a 
chief  of  his  dignity  and  years. 

"You  got  white-faced  horse?"  he  shouted  as  he 
came  near.  "You  run  race?  Me  bet  you  now,  me 
beat  you."  The  grave  old  buck  was  almost  child- 
ish at  the  prospect  of  racing  a  running  horse. 

Before  answering,  John  looked  over  the  horses 
that  were  to  compete,  and  then  consulted  with 
his  brother.  "What  do  you  think?"  said  he. 
"  Wolf  Voice  is  crazy  for  a  race,  and  I  think 
Baldy  can  beat  anything  here." 

"  But  we  haven't  any  money,"  said  Ben. 

"Me  bet  you  pony,  you  bet  um  pony,"  said 
the  Indian,  coming  up  at  this  instant  and  speak- 
ing as  if  in  answer  to  Ben's  remark. 
125 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

John  would  not  put  up  Baldy  as  a  stake  for 
anything  in  the  world,  but  he  took  off  his  saddle. 
"  I'll  bet  saddle  against  your  ponies/'  he  said, 
pointing  to  two  horses  a  boy  was  leading  forward. 
The  old  brave  demanded  more,  so  John  added 
bridle  and  silver-mounted  bit  to  the  pile ;  still  he 
was  not  satisfied,  but  John  refused  to  give  any- 
thing more.  Wolf  Voice  haggled  and  demanded 
larger  stakes  on  the  boy's  part  and  finally  pointed 
to  his  spurs;  these  were  unbuckled  and  thrown 
on  the  ground,  and  at  last  the  bargain  was 
completed. 

At  this  juncture  Big  Hawk  joined  the 
group.  He  was  eager  to  bet  against  Baldy,  but 
all  John's  possessions  were  already  pledged.  It 
was  a  trying  situation  for  the  boy,  for  he 
wanted  to  get  even  with  him,  and  he  felt  sure 
that  his  horse  would  win.  A  happy  thought 
struck  him. 

"  Say,  Ben,"  he  called  out.  "  Lend  me  your 
saddle  to  put  up  against  Big  Hawk's  pony.  I 
haven't  got  anything  left."  The  younger  boy 
was  also  eager  to  pay  back  the  young  brave  for 
his  work  at  the  buffalo  hunt,  so  he  complied  with 
this  request  unhesitatingly. 

The  wagers  arranged,  John  looked  to  his  horse. 
Baldy  was  now  without  saddle  or  bridle,  but  his 
owner  speedily  made  a  Jiackamore  or  halter  out 
126 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

of  a  piece  of  rope  and  climbed  on  bis  back;  he 
had  decided  to  ride  bare-back. 

A  number  of  braves  were  clearing  the  course 
for  the  racers,  who  had  already  lined  up  at  the 
starting  point,  but  old  Wolf  Voice  rushed  down 
and  asked  them  to  wait  a  minute  for  the  new 
entry.  In  the  meantime  John  was  trotting  up 
and  down,  warming  up  his  mount.  In  a  few 
minutes  Baldy  was  in  his  place  with  the  others. 
The  horses  all  knew  what  was  to  be  done,  but 
Baldy  did  not  become  excited  and  tire  himself 
as  did  some  of  the  others. 

They  all  lined  up  a  hundred  feet  from  the 
starting  place.  The  course,  which  was  merely 
a  level,  grassy  place,  stretched  out  invitingly  be- 
fore them;  the  Indian  spectators  formed  the 
boundaries  on  either  side,  their  usually  impassive, 
dark-red  faces  working  with  excitement.  At  a 
word  from  the  starter  the  horses  went  forward 
at  a  trot,  then  changed  to  a  lope,  and  were  break- 
ing into  a  run  when,  a  few  yards  from  the  scratch, 
the  boy  riding  Wolf  Voice's  bay  shot  out  of  the 
line  and  ahead.  Of  course  they  had  to  be  called 
back,  and  the  boy  was  sharply  reprimanded  for 
spoiling  the  start. 

Then  again  the  horses  started  and  came  down 
to  the  scratch  steadily.     At  the  starter's  yell  of 
approval,  they  sprang  ahead  with  a  dash. 
127 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

After  the  jolting  scramble  of  the  start,  John 
began  to  plan  his  race.  He  pulled  his  horse  out 
of  the  bunch  and  ran  on  the  outside.  Baldy  and 
he  were  about  the  middle  of  the  string  as  the  fast 
ones  led  away.  The  little  bay,  which  was  the 
old  chief's  pride,  led,  running  beautifully;  at  his 
heels  was  a  big  gray,  fully  holding  his  own.  The 
distance  of  half  a  mile  was  more  than  half  cov- 
ered and  both  bay  and  gray  were  ahead  of  Baldy, 
who  was  third  and  well  in  advance  of  the  bunch. 
The  crowd  was  yelling  wildly,  each  man  shouting 
encouragement  to  his  favorite  in  a  way  that 
would  make  an  Eastern  baseball  "  rooter  "  turn 
pale  with  envy. 

John  lay  down  closer  upon  his  horse's  neck 
and  chirped  gently  in  his  ear.  There  was  a  per- 
fect understanding  between  them,  and  the  old 
steed  stretched  out  his  neck  a  little  more,  laid  his 
ears  hard  against  the  side  of  his  head,  and  set  out 
to  overhaul  the  leaders,  now  running  nose  and 
nose.  Baldy's  long  stride  told,  and  he  gained 
steadily,  but  the  race  was  not  yet  over.  If  he 
could  get  abreast  of  the  two  leaders  John  knew 
that  he  could  win  out  on  a  twenty-foot  spurt  if 
need  be — he  had  done  it  before. 

It  was  but  fifty  yards  from  the  finish.  The 
two  Indian  ponies  were  tiring,  but  they  kept  up 
the  pace  gamely.  The  crowd  was,,  yelling  in- 
128 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

sanely,  uttering  threats,  encouragements,  en- 
treaties in  the  Indian  dialect,  which  neither 
John  nor  Baldj  understood;  but  just  at  the 
critical  moment  a  clear,  shrill  voice  rose  above 
the  din :  "  Now,  Baldy,  hit  it  up !  Get  a  move 
on,  John!  " 

Horse  and  rider  braced.  John  set  his  lips 
tighter:  they  were  gaining,  gaining  perceptibly 
each  second.  The  two  leaders  were  whipping 
their  ponies  spasmodically,  but  John  and  Baldy 
kept  their  heads.  ISTow  Baldy's  nose  was  on  a 
line  with  the  gray's  hind  quarter,  now  even  with 
his  shoulder,  and  now  all  three  horses  were  run- 
ning as  if  harnessed  in  one  team.  And  still  he 
gained.  John  was  becoming  excited  and  raised 
his  quirt.  "  Come,  Baldy,  do  it!  "  he  cried,  and 
at  the  same  moment  brought  down  the  lash  on 
him.  The  game  old  horse  responded  magnifi- 
cently. A  few  great  jumps  and  they  gained 
three-quarters  of  a  length.  Another  instant  and 
they  dashed  past  the  finish  line.  Baldy  had  won ! 

John  slipped  from  his  back  and  patted  his  nose 
affectionately.  "  Good  work,  old  chap.  I  knew 
you  could  leave  that  lot  of  cayuses  behind." 

"  Hurrah  for  you,  John !  "  cried  Ben  as  the 
victors  drew  near.  "  Baldy,  you're  a  trump, 
sure  enough." 

The  boys  were  soon  the  centre  of  a  circle  of 
9  129 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

red  faces,  excited,  threatening,  joyful,  or  merely 
interested,  according  to  their  bets.  All  were 
anxious  to  race  again,  but  John  refused.  Realiz- 
ing that  he  and  Ben  would  be  expected  home,  he 
broke  through  the  ring,  put  his  saddle  and  bridle 
on  one  of  the  horses  he  had  won  from  Wolf  Voice, 
mounted,  and  started  off,  leading  the  other  two 
and  Baldy.  Ben  managed  as  best  he  could  with 
the  mules,  and  so  they  returned  to  the  mine,  the 
richer  by  three  ponies,  several  trinkets,  mocca- 
sins, etc.  It  was  not  till  a  good  deal  later  in  life 
that  the  boys  learned  how  much  better  worth 
while  it  is  to  race  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  sport 
itself,  and  what  a  surprising  amount  of  trouble 
a  man  can  bring  on  himself  and  other  people  by 
forming  a  habit  of  betting.  At  present  they  un- 
thinkingly followed  the  examples  of  the  rough 
men  around  them. 

In  the  year  and  a  half  that  was  spent  at  this 
mine  on  the  Yellowstone  many  opportunities 
were  offered  for  Baldy  to  show  his  speed,  but  the 
redskins  had  learned  caution  and  were  never 
again  so  reckless  as  on  this  memorable  occasion. 

The  friendly  feeling  between  the  red  and  the 
white  boys  grew  as  time  went  on,  and  many  ex- 
cursions were  taken  in  company.  The  Indians 
told  John  and  Ben  things  about  birds  and  beasts 
of  which  they  never  dreamed,  and  showed  them 

130 


A      CLOSE  FINISH. 

games  that  were  a  constant  delight.  They  made 
a  kind  of  combination  spear  and  skate  from  the 
curved  rib  of  a  buffalo  to  the  end  of  which  were 
fastened  three  feathers;  the  highly  polished  con- 
vex surface  offered  little  resistance  to  the  ice,  so 
the  whole  could  be  thrown  a  long  distance  on  the 
glassy  surface.  The  Worth  boys  grew  to  be  very 
expert  throwers  of  this  queer  bone  skate,  and 
many  were  the  exciting  matches  they  partici- 
pated in. 

Our  boys  in  turn  taught  their  coppery  friends 
some  civilized  games.  Trials  of  strength  and 
skill  were  frequent,  and  in  most  of  them  the 
honors  were  about  even.  While  the  red  boys 
could  give  points  on  the  art  of  wrestling,  and 
never  lost  an  opportunity  to  show  their  superior- 
ity, the  Worth  youngsters  got  even  by  initiating 
them  in  the  "  noble  art  of  self-defence."  John 
put  in  practice  the  points  given  him  by  Tom 
Malloy,  much  to  the  discomfiture  of  the  Indian 
boys  and  the  corresponding  satisfaction  of  his 
teacher  and  the  men  of  the  mining  camp. 

The  new  sport  did  not  become  popular,  how- 
ever, in  the  redskins'  camp ;  John  was  too  success- 
ful— his  opponent  was  invariably  worsted. 

And  so  the  days  passed,  with  more  work  and 
less  play,  perhaps,  than  most  boys  are  accustomed 
to.  Many  pleasant  evenings,  after  the  day's  work 
131 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

was  done,  were  spent  by  the  men  telling  yarns. 
John  and  Ben  slipped  out  often,  joined  the 
group,  and  listened  eagerly  to  the  tales  that  were 
told.  It  was  on  one  of  these  nights  that  Charley 
Green  told  a  tale  that  entirely  eclipsed  Mun- 
chausen;  a  tale  that  would  never  have  occurred 
to  a  Westerner. 

"You  know  Big  Hawk?  "  he  began,  looking 
at  the  men  around  him  and  then  out  of  the  cor- 
ner of  his  eye  at  John.  "  Well,  Big  Hawk  has 
seen  the  boys,  and  especially  John,  box,  and  made 
up  his  mind  that  he  could  do  something  in  that 
line  himself — at  least  that  is  my  idea  of  his 
method  of  reasoning."  He  interrupted  himself 
to  explain:  "He  challenged  John  something  in 
this  fashion,  '  You  heap  big  fighter,'  he  said,  '  me 
show  you.' ' 

The  men  in  the  circle  began  to  grin ;  they  were 
beginning  to  take  in  the  joke.  John  and  his 
brother  gazed  in  amazement ;  all  this  was  new  to 
them. 

"  Though  he  is  a  pretty  big  chap,"  Green  con- 
tinued, "the  kid  didn't  seem  to  be  scared;  he 
knew  how  to  put  up  his  hands  and  the  big  red 
duffer  was  entirely  ignorant  of  fistic  tactics. 
Anyhow  the  boy  called  the  bluff  by  responding, 
1  Well,  I  don't  know,  I  reckon  I  can  do  you  up.' 
Ben  was  sent  for  the  gloves,  those  primitive, 
132 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

deerskin-stuffed-with-grass  affairs.  A  space  was 
cleared  on  the  dry  grassy  river  bottom,  and  the 
spectators  marked  the  boundaries.  The  specta- 
tors were  mostly  red,"  added  Green. 

"  Produce   a   spectator,"   shouted   a   listener. 

"  Proof,  proof,  we  want  proof  of  this." 

"  I^ever  mind  him,"  exclaimed  another;  "go 
on,  Charley." 

"  I'm  not  making  affidavits.  I'm  simply  tell- 
ing a  story,"  Charley  explained.  "  Big  Hawk, 
knowing  it  to  be  a  kind  of  battle,  had  arrayed 
himself  in  full  war  regalia,  which  consisted 
chiefly  of  a  big,  feathered  bonnet  and  a  decora- 
tive effect  in  yellow,  red,  and  green  paint." 

The  group  of  interested  listeners  chuckled,  but 
offered  no  remarks  or  objections.  John  and  Ben 
appeared  to  be  dazed. 

"  Tom  Malloy  was  the  referee,  and  I  acted  as 
John's  second.  Wolf  Voice  did  the  same  service 
for  Big  Hawk. 

"  When  the  two  stepped  into  the  ring,"  Green 
continued,  "  the  tall,  paint-decorated,  feather- 
tufted  Indian  and  the  short,  pink-skinned  boy,  a 
smile  appeared  on  the  usually  grave-faced  red 
men.  I  said  to  myself,  Is  this  a  Punch  and  Judy 
show  or  a  scene  from  the  Inferno  come  to  the 
surface?  f  Time!  '  sang  out  Tom  Malloy,  watch 
in  hand." 

133 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

Green  stopped  to  take  breath,  then  continued : 

"  The  two  stepped  to  the  centre,  and  the  red 
man  decided  to  settle  matters  at  once.  A  strong 
right-arm  jab  followed.  John  dodged,  and  the 
force  of  the  blow  nearly  jerked  the  Indian  off  his 
feet,  and  at  the  same  time  pulled  the  war  bonnet 
over  his  eyes.  The  boy  took  advantage  of  this 
and  thumped  Big  Hawk  on  the  chest.  The  In- 
dian cleared  his  eyes  and  came  at  him  like  a 
wounded  buffalo,  head  down,  hands  going  like 
flails;  avoiding  them,  John  hit  out  for  the  nose 
JJ~"B-  and  landed  square  on  his  beak.  The  buck 

tripped  and  fell  on  his  back  and  the  blood  began 
to  flow  freely  from  the  bruised  member,  min- 
gling with  the  yellow  and  green  paint,  forming  a 
very  weird  design.  It  was  enough,  Big  Hawk 
was  satisfied  and  hastened  to  get  off  the  gloves 
and  bathe  his  nose  at  the  river's  edge." 

From  time  to  time  during  the  recital  of  this 
tale  Green  glanced  at  the  boys  to  see  the  effect 
of  his  absurd  story.  That  they  were  greatly 
amused  was  evident.  Cries  of  "Come  off!" 
"  What  are  you  giving  us?"  and  the  like  followed 
the  conclusion,  and  Charley  Green  subsided, 
congratulating  himself  on  his  vivid  imagination. 

The  feeling  between  the  two  camps,  or  rather 
the  younger  members  of  them,  was  not  always 
friendly,  and  the  boys  were  glad  when  their 
134 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 


father  came  back  after  opening  a  new  mine,  told 
them  that  he  had  bought  a  sheep  ranch,  and 
asked  them  if  they  wanted  to  go  to  work  on  it. 
The  brothers  accepted  eagerly,  for  they  were  pos- 
sessed with  the  restless  spirit  of  the  Westerner 
and  were  anxious  for  new  scenes  and  new  ex- 
periences. 

Much  had  transpired  during  the  long  stay  at 
the  Yellowstone  mine.  The  railroad,  with  its 
busy  construction  gang  and  its  noisy,  short- 
breathed  engine,  had  reached  and  passed  the 
little  camp  and  had  left  behind  its  steel  trail. 
The  tracks  were  not  used  for  regular  traffic  as 
yet,  but  the  little  dinky  engine  went  by  fre- 
quently, dragging  flat  cars  loaded  with  rails,  ties, 
and  other  construction  material.  The  boys  be- 
came great  friends  of  the  engineer,  and  he  al- 
lowed them  to  ride  with  him  in  the  cab  of  the 
locomotive  occasionally. 

It  was  with  real  regret,  therefore,  that  one 


War-dance  postures. 

135 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

morning,  as  the  iron  horse  stood  near  the  mine, 
hissing  and  grunting  in  impatience  to  be  off,  the 
boys  climbed  up  the  step  and  into  the  cab  to  bid 
their  friend  Mr.  Jackson  good-by. 

"  What!  going  to  pull  up  stakes?  "  he  inquired. 
"  I've  got  three  boys  about  your  size  back  in  the 
East  at  school,  where  you  ought  to  be,"  he  added. 

"  Well,"  John  replied,  "  mother  has  talked 
about  school,  but  father  says  he's  going  to  teach 
us  to  work  first." 

"  Father's  great  on  work,"  interposed  Ben. 

In  answer  to  Mr.  Jackson's  inquiry,  John  said 
that  they  were  to  start  in  a  day  or  two  and  would 
go  alone,  driving  a  buckboard;  and  that  though 
they  did  not  know  the  road  the  horses  had  been 
over  it,  so  with  that  aid  and  the  description  given 
they  would  be  able  to  find  the  way. 

"  Well,  so  long,  boys,"  said  the  kindly  engi- 
neer, after  they  had  shaken  hands  and  thanked 
him  for  the  many  engine  rides,  "  I  shall  miss 

you." 

"  Same  here;  so  long!  "  called  Ben  and  John 
in  chorus. 

The  little  engine  began  to  cough,  the  steam 
puffed  and  hissed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  out 
of  sight  around  the  turn. 

A  day  or  two  later  the  boys  climbed  into  the 
buckboard,  and,  after  bidding  a  matter-of-fact 
136 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

farewell  to  all,  started  off:  on  a  journey  to  a  place 
neither  of  them  had  been  to  before,  over  a  road 
that  was  entirely  unfamiliar  to  both. 

With  their  father's  last  instructions  ringing  in 
their  ears,  they  set  out  at  a  good  pace. 

The  hundred-and-fifty-mile  drive  lasted  five 
long,  wearisome  days.  Day  after  day  they  trav- 
elled, sitting  still  on  the  bouncing,  rattling  buck- 
board.  The  white-topped  wagons  that  came  into 
view  occasionally  were  hailed  with  relief,  for  they 
somewhat  broke  the  monotony  of  the  journey; 
a  word  or  two  with  these  drivers  and  a  question 
as  to  the  location  of  the  best  grass,  wood,  and 
water — camp  necessaries — was  all  that  passed, 
but  even  that  was  a  comfort  after  the  desolation 
and  loneliness  through  which  they  had  been 
passing. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  Big  Horn  River  came 
into  view  and  was  crossed  in  safety.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  country  changed,  and  the  boys 
for  the  first  time  saw  real  mountains.  Living, 
as  they  had  been,  on  the  flat  prairies,  their  sur- 
prise was  as  great  as  their  interest  and  delight  at 
these  massive  hills  uprearing  themselves  against 
the  sky.  The  day  following  they  drove  up  to 
the  door  of  the  ranch  house  and  were  received 
cordially  by  Abe  Miller,  the  foreman  in  charge. 
In  obedience  to  their  father's  command  they  de- 
137 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


livered  a  letter  of  instructions,  and  while  Abe 
was  painfully  studying  this  out,  his  hardened 
forefinger  pointing  to  each  word  as  he  went 
along,  the  boys  had  ample  time  to  observe  him 
as  well  as  their  new  surroundings.  They  saw 
that  he  was  short  and  rather  fat  and  blessed  with 
the  face  that  is  apt  to  go  with  that  build:  it  was 
decidedly  cheerful,  for  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
turned  up;  even  now  there  was  a  half  smile  on 
his  lips,  though  his  brow  bore  a  perplexed  frown 
from  his  literary  struggle.  The  ranch  buildings, 
which  consisted  of  half  a  dozen  rough  sheds  and 
as  many  more  corrals,  beside  the  ranch  house  or 
log  shack,  lay  in  a  valley.  On  one  side  rose  a 
high  range  of  mountains,  wooded  to  the  summit ; 
on  the  other,  a  long,  rolling,  grass-covered  plain. 

"  I  don't  see  any  sheep,"  said  John,  after  scan- 
ning the  country  in  every  direction. 

Abe  looked  up,  but  held  his  stubby  forefinger 
pressed  firmly  on  the  last  word  he  was  decipher- 
ing, as  if  to  make  sure  of  its  safety. 

"  Oh,  they're  twenty-five  miles  down  the  creek 
now,"  he  answered.  "  We  only  keep  them  here 
in  the  winter.  "We'll  go  there  to-morrow;  it's 
too  late  now." 

By  the  time  the  ranchman  had  finished  the  let- 
ter the  sun  was  nearing  the  mountain  crest  and 
the  boys'  appetites  assured  them  it  was  time  to 
138 


A    CLOSE  FINISH. 

eat.  In  the  shack  a  low  fire  was  burning,  which 
blazed  cheerfully  when  John  added  an  armful  of 
dry  twigs  and  brush.  While  the  boy  was  mend- 
ing the  fire,  Abe  went  to  one  corner  of  the  cabin 
and  from  a  tall  pole  which  stood  there  let  down 
part  of  a  sheep's  quarter. 

"  Why  do  you  keep  it  up  there?  "  asked  Ben, 
who  now  noticed  it  for  the  first  time. 

"  E"o  flies  up  there,"  explained  Abe.  "  Meat 
keeps  in  this  climate  till  it  dries  up  if  the  flies 
don't  get  at  it." 

The  boys  went  out  and  sat  on  the  door-step  to 
wait  till  the  meal  was  cooked,  for  though  they 
were  more  tired  than  they  realized,  they  had  the 
greatest  curiosity  to  see  everything  connected 
with  this  new  home. 

After  sitting  silent  a  while,  their  heads  resting 
on  the  door- jamb,  their  eyes  on  the  crest  of  the 
mountain  where  the  sun  shone  with  its  last  de- 
parting glory,  John  turned  toward  his  brother. 

"  Those  mountains  are*  great.  We  didn't 
have —  Say,  Mr.  Miller,  what's  this?  "  he  asked 
excitedly,  interrupting  himself  and  pointing,  first 
to  some  bullet-holes  in  the  logs  and  then  at  a 
blood  stain  on  the  block  below. 


139 


CHAPTEE    IX. 
A  "BAD  MAN'S"  END. 

"  That's  where  Mexican  Jack  was  killed,"  an- 
swered Abe,  coming  in  the  doorway,  frying  pan 
in  hand.  "  He  was  shot  just  where  you  sit.  I'll 
tell  you  about  it  after  supper." 

John  moved  away  from  the  spot. 

Before  long  the  ranchman  called  them  in,  and 
they  enjoyed  a  supper  the  like  of  which  had  not 
fallen  to  their  lot  since  they  left  the  mine.  The 
compliment  the  boys  paid  Abe's  cooking  did 
much  to  win  his  heart.  Though  they  were 
anxiously  waiting  to  hear  the  story  of  the  bullet 
holes  and  the  spot  of  blood,  Abe  continued  to 
talk  about  gravies,  the  advantages  of  a- very  hot 
pan  in  cooking,  and  other  culinary  topics  that 
would  have  interested  John  at  another  time,  for 
he  rather  prided  himself  on  his  ability  as  cook, 
but  which  now  seemed  more  than  trivial. 
140 


A    "SAD  MAN' 8"  END. 


The  boys  lent  a  hand,  and  soon  the  tins  were 
washed  and  the  heavy  deal  table  cleared.  The 
fire  replenished,  and  Abe's  pipe  fairly  started,  all 
three  drew  their  stools  up  to  the  blaze. 

"  Well,  how  about  Mexican  Jack  ?  "  ventured 
Ben  at  last,  unable  to  restrain  his  curiosity 
longer. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  that, 
wasn't  I?  Well,  he  was  a  hard  case,"  continued 
the  speaker.  "  Half  Mexican,  half  white  man — 
and  all  bad,  he  was.  I  made  his  acquaintance 
about  ten  years  ago  at  Boise  City,  and  the  first 
thing  I  heard  of  him  was  that  he'd  just  killed  a 
gambler — gambler  was  a  hard  case,  so  nobody 
cared  much — and  Jack  skipped.  Shortly  after 
that  he  went  to  Denver  and  bullied  the  town. 
Oh,  he  was  a  regular  '  bad  man.'  You  know 
what  a  '  bad  man  '  is,  don't  you?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  John.  "  Tough  customer  who 
knows  he's  tough  and  takes  pride  in  it.  They're 
always  mighty  quick  with  their  guns,  and  dead 
shots.  One  of  'em  shot  a  man  in  the  arm,  near 
our  shack  back  in  Bismarck,  and  mother  tied  it 
up.  It  was  queer ;  the  bullet  went  right  through 
and  it  looked  like  a  rose  where  it  came  out." 

"  Well,"  continued  Abe,  "  Jack  was  a  '  bad 
man,'  and  he  didn't  care  who  knew  it.  He  had 
a  shooting  scrape  in  Denver  and  had  to  jump  the 
141 


CATTLE  IIANCU  TO    COLLEGE. 

town  in  pretty  lively  style.  The  sheriff's  posse 
got  after  him,  but  he  killed  two  of  'em  and  got 
off.  After  that  every  sheriff  in  the  country  was 
looking  for  him,  so  he  turned  outlaw  and  road 
agent  near  Virginia  City,  and  held  up  Ben  Halli- 
day's  stages  till  the  vigilance  committee  hung 
some  of  his  partners  and  got  too  hot  on  his  trail. 
2^Tot  a  thing  more  did  I  hear  of  him  till  he  turned 
up  about  two  years  ago  with  this  bunch  of  sheep 
of  your  father's.  He  had  turned  herder  and 
driven  'em  all  the  way  in  from  Utah."  Miller 
stopped  to  relight  his  pipe,  for  he  had  forgotten 
to  keep  it  going  in  the  interest  of  his  tale.  The 
boys  were  impatient  at  the  least  delay;  the  ruddy 
firelight  lit  up  their  faces  and  showed  their  eager 
interest. 

"  Your  father  had  bought  this  ranch  and  put 
me  in  charge  just  a  little  while  before  Mexican 
Jack  came  along;  I  spotted  him  at  once  and  he 
spotted  me,  but  I  didn't  let  on,  for  I  knew  he  was 
all-fired  quick  with  his  gun  and  I  wasn't  looking 
for  trouble.  Of  course  he  never  went  to  town: 
it  wasn't  healthy  for  him  there ;  and  if  he  wanted 
anything  he  had  to  wait  till  somebody  who  was 
going  in  would  get  it  for  him.  Even  with  such 
care,  though,  he  knew  it  wasn't  safe  for  him  to 
stay  in  one  place  very  long,  so  one  day  in  spring 
he  told  me  he  was  going  to  quit  and  move  on. 
142 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"   END. 

Don't  you  boys  ever  turn  '  bad  men/  "  said  Abe, 
with  a  laugh ;  "  it  don't  pay.  Brave  as  that  poor 
chap  was,  he  was  fairly  afraid  of  his  shadow 
when  he  got  to  thinking  of  sheriffs'  posses.  One 
man  isn't  much  good  against  the  law,  even  out 
here.  "Well,"  he  went  on,  "  I  went  to  town  to 
get  another  man — it's  thirty  miles,  so  I  stayed 
over  night.  Charley  Boyd,  who  runs  a  liquor 
joint  there,  told  me  a  young  feller,  an  English- 
man, he  thought,  had  been  in  there  several  times 
asking  about  sheep.  Charley  said  there  might 
be  some  business  in  it,  so  I  dropped  in  later. 

"  Boyd  went  up  to  a  young  chap  who  was  sit- 
ting watching  a  faro  game.  '  Here's  your  man, 
Mr.  Simmons,'  said  he.  The  stranger  wanted 
to  know  all  about  the  different  bunches  of  sheep 
near  there,  so  I  told  him  and  talked  a  good  deal 
about  one  thing  or  another  having  to  do  with 
them.  I  remember  I  told  him  I  was  looking  for 
a  herder  to  take  the  place  of  a  Mexican  that  was 
going  to  quit.  Soon  after  that  he  left.  I  could 
not  quite  make  him  out,  but  it  was  plain  enough 
he  wasn't  buying." 

"  "What's  all  this  got  to  do  with  Mexican 
Jack?  "  inquired  Ben,  who  didn't  see  the  drift  of 
the  narrative. 

"  If  you  wait  a  minute,  I'll  tell  you."  Abe 
was  vexed  at  the  thoughtless  interruption,  and 
143 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

Ben  subsided,  realizing  that  he  had  been  rather 
foolish.  "  In  the  morning  I  packed  my  stuff  on 
the  led  horse,  mounted  my  own  cayuse,  and 
started  out.  I  had  just  topped  the  rise  near  the 
shack  when  a  bullet  went  by  with  a  hum,  and 
then  another  and  another,  so  I  chased  back  for 
cover  to  the  other  side.  I  dismounted,  crawled 
up  to  the  top,  and  looked  over.  There  at  the 
door  sat  Mexican  Jack,  six-shooter  in  hand.  I 
couldn't  understand  why  in  the  world  he  should 
shoot  at  me,  so  I  rode  over  to  look  up  Billy,  the 
other  herder,  and  find  out  what  was  up.  He 
hadn't  been  to  the  shack  since  morning  and  knew 
nothing  about  it,  so  he  left  the  sheep  and  we  went 
down  the  coulie,  which  runs  just  below  here, 
you  know,  till  we  got  behind  that  clump  of  brush 
— perhaps  you  saw  it.  We  peeked  through  pretty 
cautious,  I  can  tell  you.  The  Mexican  was  still 
there,  but  his  body  was  all  hunched  up;  he 
seemed  drunk  or  asleep,  for  his  six-shooter  lay  on 
the  ground  by  his  side. 

"  We  covered  him  with  our  guns,  for  he  was 
chained  lightning  with  his  shooting  irons,  and 
then  yelled  at  him.  He  didn't  answer  or  move 
an  inch.  We  jumped  out  then,  still  keeping  him 
covered,  and  walked  slowly  up,  ready  to  riddle 
him  if  he  should  make  a  move  with  that  deadly 
pistol  hand  of  his.  Once  he  quivered  a  bit  and 
144 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"   END. 

his  right  hand  stirred  toward  his  gun.  I  almost 
plunked  him  then,  I  was  so  nervous,  but  there 
was  no  other  sign  of  wakefulness  or  life.  We 
decided  he  must  have  gotten  hold  of  some  liquor 
somewhere,  but  when  we  got  within  about  fifty 
feet  of  him  Billy  noticed  a  pool  of  blood  at 
his  side.  Then  we  rushed  forward — guns  still 
ready,  however — and  just  as  we  reached  the  steps 
he  lurched  forward  and  fell  full  on  his  face — 
dead! 

"  A  couple  of  bullets  had  gone  clean  through 
him.  We  found  out  when  we  turned  his  body 
over  to  the  authorities  in  town  that  Simmons,  the 
young  Englishman  I  had  met,  had  come  over  to 
America  a  year  before  expressly  to  kill  Mexican 
Jack,  who  had  shot  his  brother  in  some  quarrel. 
I  had  supplied  the  missing  link  of  information, 
and  he  had  gone  early  in  the  morning  to  our 
shack,  where  he  had  shot  the  Mexican  twice. 
Jack  evidently  thought  I  had  given  him  away 
purposely  and  tried  to  settle  me." 

"  My!  what  a  fiend,"  said  John.  "  But  what 
became  of  Simmons? " 

"  Oh,  he  went  back  to  town  and  gave  himself 
up,  was  tried,  and  acquitted ;  for  no  jury  out  here 
would  convict  such  a  man  for  shooting  a  bad 
lot  like  Mexican  Jack." 

"  I  should  think  you'd  be  glad  to  get  rid  of 
10  145 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

him,"  exclaimed  both,  boys  in  chorus.  "  Weren't 
you  afraid  to  have  him  round  so  long?  " 

"  Oh,  no;  he  wouldn't  trouble  me,  I  guess,  as 
long  as  I  let  him  alone;  he  was  a  blamed  good 
herder,  and  it  was  worth  while  to  keep  on  the 
right  side  of  him.  ISTow,  you  boys  want  to  tumble 
in,  for  we'll  be  going  out  right  early  in  the  morn- 
ing to  the  range." 

The  twenty-five-mile  trip  next  day  to  the 
range  where  the  sheep  were  grazing  was  made 
without  incident,  but  the  country  was  all  new  to 
the  boys  and  they  plied  their  guide  with  ques- 
tions. They  learned  that  Abe  Miller  was  to  stay 
with  them  on  the  range  and  teach  them  their 
duties,  another  man  taking  charge  at  the  ranch 
house  during  his  absence. 

It  was  expected  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Worth 
would  move  to  the  new  mine  (about  fifteen  miles 
from  the  ranch  house)  in  a  couple  of  months. 

Their  education  as  herders  completed,  the  boys 
would  be  given  sole  charge  of  a  large  bunch  of 
several  thousand  sheep.  A  kind  of  shed,  open  in 
front  and  built  of  round,  chinked  logs,  entirely 
lacking  in  comforts  of  every  kind,  was  to  be  their 
home.  Polly,  Dick,  and  Pete,  the  three  sheep 
dogs,  and  the  great  flock  of  woolly  animals  would 
then  be  their  only  companions. 

Abe  initiated  them  at  once  into  the  routine  of 
146 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"  END. 


their  new  occupation  and  introduced  them  to 
"  Polly  "  and  her  two  sons,  Dick  and  Pete,  the 
ever-vigilant,  intelligent  dogs  who  were  to  be 
their  capable  assistants. 

It  was  hardly  the  work  that  an  enterprising, 
wide-awake,  active  person,  young  or  old,  would 
choose.  Untiring  vigilance  was  the  one  thing 
necessary.  Watchfulness  never  ceasing,  day  and 
night,  rain  and  shine,  was  the  chief  occupation 
of  the  sheep  herder.  Polly,  the  dog,  was  a  much 
better  herder  than  her  young  masters  at  first,  and 
Dick  and  Pete  were  not  far  behind.  They 
moved  the  "  bunch  "  to  fresh  feeding  grounds 
at  the  command,  and  fully  understood  the  wig- 
wag code  of  the  plains.  When  driving  at  a  dis- 
tance from  camp  Polly  would  trot  to  a  hill  top 
and  watch  for  the  boys'  signal:  if  John  waved 
horizontally  she  would  drive  them  farther,  Dick 
and  Pete  assisting;  when  the  bunch  had  been 
driven  far  enough  John's  hat  would  be  flapped 
up  and  down,  and  the  dogs,  with  almost  human 
intelligence,  would  at  once  stop  their  charges. 

The  attacks  of  coyotes,  wolves,  and,  more 
rarely,  mountain  lions  were  the  greatest  danger 
to  the  sheep  that  the  young  shepherds  had  to 
guard  against.  Some  of  these  four-footed  ene- 
mies were  almost  always  prowling  about,  looking 
hungrily  for  a  chance  at  a  stray  sheep  or  lamb. 
147 


*»/&, 


$ 


#  J*r< 


£X. 


*R\ 
^  ^Eyo 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


A  coyote  or  wolf  among  an  unprotected  flock  will 
destroy  a  surprising  number  of  sheep  in  a  few 
minutes,  seemingly  for  the  pure  love  of  killing, 
so  there  was  good  reason  for  the  sharpest  kind  of 
lookout. 

After  the  novelty  of  the  life  wore  off,  the  boys 
began  to  wish  themselves  back  at  the  mine.  For 
weeks  at  a  time  they  did  not  see  another  human 
being.  Each  day  was  like  every  other  day;  in 
the  morning  the  rope  corral  enclosing  the  flock 
was  let  down,  and  the  sheep  were  driven  by  the 
dogs  to  a  place  where  the  feed  was  good;  then  the 
boys  mounted  their  horses  and  followed  to  the 
grazing  ground.  During  the  two  mid  hours  of 
ij  the  day  the  animals  rested,  lying  down  quietly, 
and  the  brothers  would  take  advantage  of  this 
time  to  get  in  as  much  sport  as  the  spot  afforded. 
Rifles  were  always  slung  on  the  saddle,  and  the 
slinking  coyotes  gave  plenty  of  opportunity  to 
show  good  marksmanship.  Occasionally  the 
curiously  marked  antelope  appeared,  looking,  as 
Charley  Green  once  said,  "  as  if  some  one  had 
started  to  paint  the  whole  lot  tan  but  had  got 
tired  of  the  job  and  left  patches  of  white  at  odd 
places  "  ;  then  the  young  hunters  would  set  out, 
and  in  the  excitement  of  a  hunt  forget  for  a  time 
the  monotony  of  the  life.  Seldom  was  it  safe  for 
both  to  go  at  once;  only  at  noon,  when  the  sheep 
148 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"   END. 

were  lying  down  in  open,  level  country,  could 
the  dogs  be  left  wholly  in  charge. 

Towards  evening  the  bunch  must  be  corraled 
for  the  night — a  difficult  task  if  there  are  many 
lambs  in  the  flock.  The  boys  found,  often  to 
their  disgust,  that  a  lamb  can  run  like  a  deer 
when  it  gets  thoroughly  frightened.  It  was 
shortly  after  Abe  had  left  them  that,  in  accord- 
ance with  his  teaching,  they  began  to  "  round 
up  "  the  flock  preparatory  to  stretching  the  rope' 
corral.  Ben  was  on  one  side  with  Polly  and 
Dick,  John  on  the  other  with  Pete ;  all  was  going 
well,  and  John  and  Pete,  neither  very  experi- 
enced in  the  business  in  hand,  began  to  feel  the 
pride  that  goeth  before  a  fall.  Suddenly  the 
sheep  fifty  yards  from  where  John  stood  began 
to  scatter.  Pete  was  sent  forthwith  to  force  them 
back,  and  while  he  was  busy  there  a  lamb,  long 
and  clumsy  of  leg,  apparently  not  strong  enough 
to  stand  alone,  started  out  on  a  voyage  of  discov- 
ery not  ten  yards  from  the  boy.  It  would  not  do 
to  let  it  stray  far,  for  a  coyote  would  make  short 
work  of  it,  so  John  sped  off  in  pursuit. 

As  he  drew  near  the  little  woolly  thing  it  in- 
creased its  speed,  running  as  you  would  imagine 
a  rickety  table  would  run,  but  it  kept  going  faster 
and  faster.  John,  who  unfortunately  was  on 
foot,  found  to  his  mortification  that  he  could  not 
149 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

overtake  it.  It  looked  as  if  he  would  have  to 
give  up  the  chase.  At  last,  however,  he  tried 
gradually  turning  to  one  side  and  heading  it  back 
to  the  bunch;  even  then  it  might  have  got  away  if 
Polly,  taking  in  the  situation,  had  not  flown  to 
the  rescue.  John  came  back  panting,  hot,  and 
tired,  only  to  find  Ben  sitting  calmly  in  his  saddle 
with  a  broad  grin  on  his  countenance.  Even  the 
dogs  seemed  to  be  laughing,  their  open  mouths 
and  lolling  tongues  giving  their  faces  a  look  of 
keen  enjoyment  over  his  discomfiture. 

Even  after  the  flock  was  safely  corralled  it 
required  almost  as  much  watching  as  if  in  the 
open.  The  boys  usually  took  turns,  each  watch- 
ing half  the  night.  A  fire  was  built  on  one  side 
of  the  enclosure,  and  the  watcher  lay  on  the 
other.  The  sheep,  probably  the  most  helpless 
animals  one  could  find,  lay  right  up  against  each 
other,  their  closely  packed  bodies  looking  at 
night  like  a  patch  of  snow. 

As  the  young  herder  fought  with  himself  to 
keep  awake,  the  howl  of  a  coyote  often  broke  the 
stillness ;  then  he  must  start  up,  gun  in  hand,  and 
make  a  round  of  the  flock.  From  time  to  time  he 
replenished  the  fire  and  made  a  careful  scrutiny 
of  the  country  round  in  search  of  the  lurking 
enemies  of  his  charges.  Till  he  woke  his  brother 
about  midnight  there  was  hardly  a  minute's  rest. 
150 


A    "BAD  MAN1 8"  END. 

Then  Ben  took  up  the  vigil,  while  John  slept  till 
daylight;  and  so  began  another  weary  day  exactly 
like  the  preceding  one. 

While  in  summer  sheep  are  docile  and  amia- 
ble, though  never  so  interesting  as  are  cattle, 
horses,  or  mules,  in  winter  they  become  stupid, 
intractable,  and  aggravating  to  the  herder.  It 
was  in  the  winter  that  the  boys'  greatest  hard- 
ships were  encountered,  for  they  found  it  neces- 
sary more  than  once  literally  to  carry  some  of 
the  flock  through  snow  drifts  to  the  ranch. 
They  would  not  be  driven  or  led,  but  when  a 
trail  had  been  made,  and  a  number  carried  and 
forced  along  it,  the  remainder  would  pluck  up 
courage  to  follow  through  the  bank  of  snow. 

The  boys  spent  all  one  summer  and  winter 
with  the  sheep.  From  time  to  time  Mr.  Worth, 
who  had  moved  his  entire  outfit  over  to  the  new 
mine,  came  out  to  the  range  to  inspect  the  ani- 
mals; and  towards  the  end  of  the  year  the  boys 
each  time  besought  their  father  to  let  them  go 
back  with  him.  For  the  first  time  they  realized 
the  meaning  of  an  expression  they  had  often 
heard:  "  as  crazy  as  a  sheep  herder."  The  shep- 
herd's life  in  the  far  West  is  as  uninteresting,  am- 
bitionless,  and  lonely  an  existence  as  falls  to  the 
lot  of  man.  For  long  periods  of  time  a  shepherd 
is  so  entirely  alone  with  his  flock  and  his  dogs 
151 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

that  the  experience  not  infrequently  costs  him 
his  reason.  It  was  a  terribly  lonely  life  for 
youngsters  such  as  they;  though  each  was  com- 
pany for  the  other,  they  both  longed  to  hear 
the  home  sounds  and  see  the  familiar  faces.  Mr. 
Worth,  however,  would  not  consent  to  their  re- 
turn till  the  year  was  up.  He  felt  that  the  dis- 
cipline was  good  for  them,  and  besides  he  was 
never  willing  to  have  them  let  go  of  anything 
without  finishing  it. 

The  new  mine  was  the  most  important  and 
largest  that  had  been  opened.  It  was  situated 
on  the  line  of  the  railroad  that  had  just  been  con- 
structed, and  was  of  a  more  permanent  character 
than  the  preceding  ones.  Many  of  the  miners 
brought  their  wives  and  families  with  them,  so 
that  they  formed  quite  a  settlement.  Occasion- 
ally the  miners'  sons  would  ride  out  to  visit  the 
Worth  boys,  who  were  delighted  to  see  them, 
though  there  was  little  in  common  between  them. 
The  miners  were  Easterners,  as  a  rule,  and  knew 
nothing  of  horsemanship,  hunting,  or  plains- 
craft;  but  they  were  boys  and  were  gladly  re- 
ceived as  such.  They  regaled  John  and  Ben 
with  accounts  of  the  happenings  at  the  mine,  but 
while  they  listened  eagerly,  this  only  added  to 
their  impatience  to  return  and  made  them  more 
discontented  with  their  present  life. 
152 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"   END. 

When  the  snow  began  to  melt  and  the  grass  to 
grow  green  again,  the  brothers  occupied  most  of 
their  time  in  thinking  what  they  would  do  when 
they  got  back  to  civilization,  for  the  time  of  their 
release  was  drawing  near. 

"  I'd  go  crazy  if  I  had  to  stay  here  with  these 
woolly  idiots  another  year,"  said  John  one  day. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Ben,  "  it's  about  as  tame  as 
anything  could  be.  But  what  are  we  going  to 
do  when  we  get  back-?  You  can  bet  your  bottom 
dollar  father  won't  let  us  sit  round  and  enjoy  the 
view." 

"  I  suppose  we'll  have  to  get  to  work  at  some- 
thing." John  stroked  Polly's  head  reflectively 
as  he  spoke,  and  the  good  dog,  undemonstrative 
always,  showed  her  pleasure  only  by  the  slow 
wagging  of  her  bushy  tail. 

"  But  what?  "  It  was  Ben  who  spoke.  "  I'll 
be  switched  if  I  want  to  go  to  coal  mining,  and  I 
guess  you  don't  care  about  it  either." 

"  That's  right,"  replied  John,  laconically. 
"  I've  had  enough  of  mining  to  last  me  a  life- 
time." He  shivered  a  little  at  the  remembrance 
of  his  experience. 

For  a  time  both  were  silent;  each  was  trying 

to  think  of  something  he  might  turn  his  hand  to 

that  would  suit  his  father  and  at  the  same  time 

please  himself.     It  was  not  an  altogether  cheer- 

153 


CATTLE  RANCU  TO    COLLEGE. 

ful  prospect  that  lay  before  them.  They  would 
soon  change  the  solitude  for  their  bustling,  busy 
home.  It  was  home,  and  that  was  good  to  think 
of.  Yet  it  was  a  home  where  a  boy's  love  of  fun 
and  his  healthy  animal  spirits  were  not  consid- 
ered: his  capacity  for  work  was  what  counted. 
A  home  where  uncongenial,  hard  labor  awaited 
them  unless  they  could  think  of  some  other  occu- 
pation that  would  satisfy  their  stern,  just,  abso- 
lutely honest  but  unyielding  father. 

"Well?  "said  Ben  at  last. 

"  Well !  "  returned  John  in  much  the  same 
tone,  "there  is  one  thing  we  might  do — perhaps." 

"  Well?  "  said  Ben  again,  eagerly. 

"You  remember  when  young  Watson  was  over 
here  the  other  night,"  John  began.  "  He  said 
that  a  mail  route  was  to  be  run  from  Ragged 
Edge  Camp  to  the  railroad,  through  the  pass  in 
the  mountain ' 

"  Yes,  and  he  had  the  job.  That  shuts  us  out, 
doesn't  it? " 

"  Wait  a  minute !  "  exclaimed  John,  impa- 
tiently. "  He's  a  tenderfoot,  and  he'll  never  in 
the  world  be  able  to  make  that  trip  on  time,  in 
winter — he'll  never  be  able  to  make  it  at  all. 
You'll  see  that  after  he  has  been  late  a  few  times 
we'll  have  a  chance.  Then  I  intend  to  apply  for 
the  job.  See?" 

154 


A    "BAD  MAN'S"  END. 

John  was  the  more  aggressive,  the  stronger  of 
the  two,  both  in  mind  and  body.  The  younger 
brother  had  learned  to  lean  on  his  more  inde- 
pendent spirit,  so  it  was  John  who  always  had 
the  deciding  voice  when  there  was  a  doubtful 
plan.  Ben's  yielding  disposition  enabled  him  to 
get  along  more  comfortably  with  every  one,  and 
especially  with  the  supreme  authority  in  the 
household. 

The  Worth  boys  soon  learned  from  their  occa- 
sional visitors  that  they  would  be  expected  to 
show  their  prowess  as  boxers  and  wrestlers  on 
their  arrival  in  camp,  so  they  determined  to  prac- 
tise up.  Every  day  at  noon,  when  the  sheep  lay 
down,  the  two  went  at  each  other,  good  hu- 
moredly  but  with  seriousness,  advising  one  an- 
other when  a  mistake  was  made.  Every  blow, 
every  trick,  that  Tom  Malloy  had  taught  John 
they  tried  till  they  knew  it  perfectly.  Every 
feint,  every  fall,  that  the  Indians  practised  they 
perfected,  till  by  the  time  their  term  with  the 
sheep  was  up  their  bodies  were  as  supple  and 
their  muscles  as  strong  as  constant  exercise  and 
clean,  healthy  living  in  the  open  air  could  make 
them. 

At  last  the  new  men  arrived,  the  boys  turned 
over  the  sheep  to  them,  and  promptly  saddled  up 
for  their  ride  across  the  mountains.  They  were 
155 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

glad  to  get  away  from  the  ranch,  but  when  they 
reviewed  the  passed  long  months  and  realized 
that  they  had  not  flinched,  they  experienced 
that  peculiar  pleasure  that  comes  from  carrying 
through  a  hard  job. 


156 


CHAPTER   X. 

BATTLE   ROYAL. 

Mr.  Worth  had  built  for  himself  a  plank  house 
with  shingled  roof — the  first  real  house  the  boys 
had  entered  since  they  left  Bismarck. 

Their  father  was  away  when  they  arrived,  to 
be  gone  for  some  weeks,  so  the  boys  had  a  chance 
to  have  some  of  the  fun  they  had  longed  for. 
They  expected  to  have  great  sport  with  the 
miners'  sons,  but  were  keenly  disappointed  to 
find  that  their  tastes  were  utterly  different.  The  0^"** 
latter  were  as  a  rule  Eastern  boys,  and  were  , 
versed  in  civilized  amusements:  baseball,  mar- 
bles, tops,  and  all  the  games  of  skill  and  strength 
dear  to  the  town  dwellers.  Of  all  these  our  boys  .„ 
knew  nothing;  their  amusements  were  akin  to 
their  work — to  ride  well  and  shoot  straight  was  a 
matter  of  business  as  well  as  pleasure  for  them. 
And  so  the  Worth  boys  and  those  of  the  camp 
stood  aloof  from  one  another,  and  John  and  Ben 
were  soon  almost  as  unhappy  as  they  had  been 
on  the  sheep  range. 

157 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

They  still  hoped  to  have  an  opportunity  to 
show  their  skill  as  wrestlers  and  fighters  in  the 
emphatic  way  that  was  the  custom  in  that  day 
and  place,  but  for  a  long  time  the  camp  boys 
gave  them  no  provocation.  As  time  went  on, 
however,  the  mining  boys  grew  overbearing  and 
insulting  and  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  taunt 
and  aggravate  the  young  Westerners. 

"  I'm  going  to  lick  that  Jake  Adams  within  an 
inch  of  his  life,"  said  John,  wrathfully,  one  day 
to  his  brother.  "  He's  the  worst  one  of  the  lot." 

"  All  right,"  said  Ben.     "  I'm  with  you." 

Pretty  soon  an  opportunity  came,  and  John 
challenged  Jake  to  fight.  He  accepted  at  once.  A 
ring  was  formed  on  the  outskirts  of  the  camp  by 
the  boys  and  some  of  the  men  who  guaranteed 
fair  play.  The  contest  that  followed  was  short, 
sharp,  and  decisive.  John  kept  his  head  and 
made  every  blow  tell,  while  Jake  in  his  anger 
forgot  all  he  knew  and  defended  himself  so 
poorly  that  his  opponent  soon  satisfied  him  he 
was  the  better  man. 

After  this  such  contests,  generally  not  quite 
so  earnest,  were  frequent.  From  most  of  them 
John  came  out  victorious,  and  for  a  time  the 
others  ceased  to  taunt  the  Worth  boys.  But  the 
feeling  was  far  from  being  as  friendly  as  it  ought 
to  have  been  between  the  two  factions.  Even 
158 


MR.    WORTH    HAD    BUILT    FOR    HIMSELF   A    NEW    HOUSE.       (Page  157.) 


THE    SHEEP    RANCH    HOUSE.       (Page  137.) 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

the  settlement  of  the  arguments  in  so  thorough  a 
manner  failed  to  clear  the  air  entirely. 

The  miners  admired  pluck  and  skill,  and  John 
had  many  friends  among  them.  His  father,  too, 
did  not  disapprove,  for  he  also  admired  one  who 
could  give  and  take  hard  knocks.  His  approval 
was  never  outspoken,  however;  on  the  contrary 
he  made  John's  bruises  the  subject  of  his  chaff- 
ing. To  John — who,  in  spite  of  his  apparent  in- 
difference, was  very,  sensitive  and  craved  sym- 
pathy— this  was  almost  unbearable. 

As  John  predicted,  young  Watson  failed  to 
get  the  mails  in  on  time.  John  at  once  offered 
to  undertake  the  job,  and  after  some  questioning 
the  authorities  decided  he  was  capable  of  accom- 
plishing it.  Here  was  something  he  could  do 
that  would  test  his  intelligence,  his  strength,  and 
his  courage.  It  was  work  and  amusement  at  the 
same  time,  and  he  accepted  it  gladly. 

Ragged  Edge  had  sprung  up  in  a  gulch  four- 
teen miles  from  the  coal  camp.  It  was  a  new 
camp  of  the  mushroom  variety,  called  suddenly 
into  being  by  the  discovery  of  some  gold-bearing 
gravel  in  the  creek  there.  Deep  snows  on  the 
range  nearly  cut  off  communication  with  the 
outer  world  for  three  months  in  the  year.  By 
following  the  high,  wind-swept  ridge,  the  moun- 
tain could  be  crossed  by  a  venturesome  horseman 
159 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

till  winter  came  on  and  the  snows  grew  too  deep, 
when  snowshoes  must  be  resorted  to.  Even  late 
in  the  summer  snowshoes  were  necessary  to 
travel  over  the  soft  masses  of  the  snow  which 
always  crowned  the  summit. 

When  John  presented  himself  as  a  candidate 
for  mail  rider,  Burns,  the  boss  at  Ragged  Edge, 
looked  at  him  in  good-natured  amusement. 
"  Well,  kid,  if  you  think  you  can  do  it,  go  ahead 
and  try.  But  it  means  work  and  p'raps  danger." 
John  told  of  his  snowshoeing  experiences  in 
Dakota  modestly  but  straightforwardly,  and 
satisfied  him  by  his  resolute  mien  that  he  had  the 
pluck  to  do  it  if  any  one  could. 

The  boy  spent  several  days  in  going  over  the 
ground,  noting  the  best  line  to  follow  and  making 
sure  of  his  landmarks  before  the  snowTs  should 
cover  up  everything.  He  found  at  the  top  of 
the  pass  an  old,  abandoned  cabin  and  marked  its 
location  in  his  mind  in  case  of  future  necessity. 
This  bit  of  precaution  served  him  well  before  the 
winter  was  over. 

"  You  had  better  get  a  good  strong  horse,"  said 
Mr.  Worth,  as  John  was  mounting  Baldy — for 
the  trips  had  already  begun.  "  Baldy's  too  old. 
You'll  need  a  good  young  horse." 

John  said  nothing  for  a  minute,  but  patted  his 
steed  as  if  to  express  his  confidence  in  him. 
160 


BATTLE  UOTAL. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir.  Baldy  knows  me  and  I  know 
Baldy,  and  I  think  I  can  get  along  better  with 
him  than  I  could  with  any  other  horse,"  he  said, 
rather  anxiously,  for  he  was  afraid  that  his  com- 
panion would  be  denied  him.  "  Besides,"  he 
continued,  "  Baldy  can  smell  a  trail  through  two 
feet  of  snow,  and  isn't  he  in  good  condition? 
You  can't  see  a  rib." 

"All  right,"  returned  his  father.  "He's 
yours,  and  the  job's  yours.  Go  ahead  and  work 
it  out  the  way  you  think  best." 

So  boy  and  horse  encountered  the  perils  of  the 
mountain  pass  together,  friends  always,  but  now 
sole  companions. 

While  there  was  no  sign  of  snow  in  the  valleys, 
it  was  falling  steadily  in  the  mountains.  John 
did  not  carry  out  his  first  plan  of  tethering  Baldy 
at  the  snow  line  on  the  mine  side  of  the  moun- 
tains and  covering  the  rest  of  the  distance  on 
snowshoes.  He  found  that  by  following  the 
bare  ridges  he  could  go  the  whole  distance  on 
horseback.  His  route  was  changed  almost  every 
day,  for  the  wind  formed  drifts  in  different  places 
and  blocked  the  old  way  ten  feet  deep  over  night. 
In  certain  places  cuts  in  the  ridge  would  become 
filled  with  snow,  and  through  this  horse  and  rider 
had  to  flounder  till  a  hard  trail  had  been  packed. 
It  was  in  such  spots  that  Baldy's  cleverness  mani- 
11  161 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

fested  itself;  he  rarely  missed  the  narrow,  packed 
path,  though  it  might  be  buried  two  feet  or  more. 
An  incautious  step  to  one  side  was  sure  to  cause 
both  horse  and  rider  to  disappear  in  the  soft  mass. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  you  have  done  pretty  well 
so  far,"  said  Burns  one  day,  as  John  dismounted 
and  handed  him  the  packet  of  mail. 

"Yes;  haven't  missed  a  trip,"  he  answered 
rather  proudly.  "  Don't  know  if  I'd  have  made 
such  a  good  record  if  I  hadn't  the  best  snow  horse 
going  though.  Been  snowshoeing  it  two  weeks 
ago  if  it  wasn't  for  Baldy."  He  stopped  to  stroke 
the  animal's  nose  affectionately.  "  I  vowed  this 
should  be  his  last  trip,  it's  getting  harder  and 
harder;  but  he's  such  good  company  I  hate  to 
give  him  up." 

I^ext  morning,  as  Burns  handed  out  the  return 
mail,  he  warned  the  boy  that  bad  weather  was 
coming,  and  suggested  that  he  leave  the  horse 
behind,  for  he  would  be  more  of  a  hindrance 
than  a  help.  "  Those  black  clouds  mean  that 
we're  in  for  a  big  storm,"  he  said,  "  and  I  tell  you 
that  you  and  your  horse  had  better  stay  here.  I 
can't  boss  you,  kid,  but  I  advise  you  not  to  fool 
with  that  storm — it's  coming  sure  and  you  don't 
know  what  it  means  up  here."  In  spite  of  this 
John  decided  to  go  on  Baldy,  for  he  wished  to 
leave  him  safe  at  his  father's  camp. 
162 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

The  hard  travelling  had  begun  to  tell  on  the 
sturdy  little  horse;  his  body  was  not  so  round  as 
formerly,  nor  his  step  so  springy,  but  he  carried 
his  young  rider  well  for  all  that  and  was  as  know- 
ing and  careful  as  ever. 

John  tucked  the  package  of  precious  letters  in 
his  saddle-bag,  and  after  calling  out  a  good-by  to 
Burns  he  set  out.  He  had  barely  reached  high 
ground  when  snow  began  to  fall  heavily  and  with 
it  came  a  blustering,  roaring  wind  that  buffeted 
the  travellers  roundly.  The  horse  slackened  his 
speed,  and,  by  signs  that  John  knew  well,  advised 
retreat.  The  boy  urged  him  forward,  however, 
saying  aloud — for  he  always  felt  as  if  Baldy 
could  understand  everything  he  told  him — "  No, 
old  man,  if  we  go  back  now  you'll  have  to 
winter  in  the  Ragged  Edge  gulch  and  you'll 
die  sure.  We  can  make  it  all  right."  The 
good  beast  seemed  to  acquiesce  in  his  master's 
judgment,  for  he  went  along  without  further 
hesitation.  The  trail  now  was  covered  almost 
knee  deep,  and  the  blinding  mist  and  whirling 
flakes  blotted  out  nearly  all  landmarks.  They 
pushed  forward,  at  one  moment  right  in  the 
teeth  of  the  blast,  at  the  next  turning  a  sharp 
corner  and  running  before  it,  heads  down,  eyes 
almost  closed,  the  rider  depending  on  the  keen 
senses  of  his  steed  to  find  the  way. 
163 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

At  length  Baldy  stopped,  and  John  felt,  with 
a  thrill  of  real  alarm,  that  he  had  lost  the  trail. 
To  go  forward  seemed  impossible,  to  go  back  al- 
most as  bad.  To  and  fro  they  went,  in  vain  ef- 
forts to  find  the  way.  Baldy  still  floundered 
along,  his  hoofs  covered  with  gunny  sacks  to  pre- 
vent their  sharp  edges  from  cutting  through  the 
crust ;  but  his  sides  began  to  heave  and  his  legs  to 
shake  under  him,  for  the  exertion  of  breaking 
through  the  drifts  from  one  wind-swept  ridge  to 
another  was  most  exhausting.  John  could  stand 
it  no  longer;  he  slipped  off  his  back  and  caught 
his  head  in  both  arms :  "  Why  did  I  bring  you  out 
here?"  he  said,  in  bitter  self-reproach.  It  was 
evident  that  if  he  did  not  find  shelter  soon  his 
old  friend  would  freeze  to  death. 

There  was  one  chance  for  himself:  he  was  light 
and  might  be  able  to  make  his  way  over  the  snow 
to  Ragged  Edge  Camp,  perhaps ;  but  what  would 
then  become  of  his  faithful  friend?  Could  he 
leave  him  to  such  a  fate  after  he  had  so  spent 
himself  for  his  master's  sake  ?  Baldy  stood  knee 
deep  in  the  cruel,  treacherous,  white  snow,  his 
head  down,  quick,  spasmodic  puffs  coming  from 
his  nostrils,  his  body  steaming,  and  his  flanks  all 
in  a  tremble.  There  was  only  one  chance  for  the 
lives  of  both.  John  remembered  the  abandoned 
hut  at  the  top  of  the  pass — if  they  could  possibly 
164 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

reach  that,  they  might  be  able  to  weather  the 
storm  together.  He  determined  to  try.  Fas- 
tening Baldy's  bridle  rein  to  his  fore  leg,  so 
that  he  could  not  follow,  and  giving  him  an  af- 
fectionate pat  on  the  nose,  he  started  off,  his  teeth 
set  determinedly.  A  few  yards  away  the  driv- 
ing snow  shut  Baldy  off  from  his  sight  entirely, 
but  a  gentle  whinny  reached  him  and  brought  a 
lump  into  his  throat. 

"  That's  all  right,  old  boy,"  he  called  aloud; 
"  I'm  not  going  to  leave  you.  I'll  be  back." 
He  turned  in  the  direction  he  thought  the  cabin 
should  be  and  fought  his  way  on.  The  wind 
seemed  like  a  howling  fiend;  it  tore  at  his  cloth- 
ing, blew  the  particles  of  snow  into  his  eyes,  and 
raised  such  a  veil  of  mist  and  frost  that  he  could 
not  see  ten  yards  ahead  of  him.  On  the  high, 
bare  ridges  the  blast  nearly  took  him  off  his  feet 
and  in  the  hollows  the  snow  banks  engulfed  him. 
Still  he  struggled  on,  straining  his  eyes  forward 
into  the  gray  chaos  that  confronted  him,  deter- 
mined to  find  the  shelter.  A  vision  of  Baldy 
standing  dejectedly  alone,  his  rough  brown  coat 
turned  white  by  the  sleet,  his  faithful  old  eyes 
half  closed,  drove  the  boy  on  irresistibly,  for, 
next  to  his  brother,  he  loved  his  horse  better  than 
anything  else  in  the  world. 

He  ploughed  through  drift  after  drift,  follow- 
165 


CATTLE  BANCS  TO   COLLEGE. 

ing  one  ridge,  for  only  by  keeping  one  such  land- 
mark in  sight  was  it  possible  to  go  in  any  given 
direction.  Would  that  haven  of  rest  ever  come 
into  view?  Even  his  stout  heart  began  to  de- 
spair; he  was  weary,  his  body  bathed  in  sweat, 
yet  his  face,  feet,  and  hands  numb  with  cold ;  the 
elements  seemed  to  conspire  against  him.  He 
was  only  a  boy,  and  it  seemed  hard  that  he  should 
give  up  his  life.  He  stood  still  and  looked  drear- 
ily down  the  hillside.  Nothing,  nothing  but  the 
deadly  snow.  He  began  to  wonder  if  it  was 
worth  while  to  fight  against  such  odds  any  longer. 

And  then  in  this  abjectness  he  suddenly  gave 
a  cry  of  delight.  For  the  wind  rent  the  snow 
apart  for  an  instant  and  he  caught  a  glimpse 
through  the  driving  flakes  of  a  dead  tree  and  near 
it  a  peculiarly  shaped,  great  gray  rock.  They 
seemed  positively  human,  like  old  friends,  for  the 
shelter  he  sought  stood  just  to  the  left  of  them. 

He  began  at  once  to  look  for  a  place  where 
Baldy  might  be  led  down  in  safety.  This  was 


166 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

impossible  where  he  stood — it  was  far  too  steep 
and  rocky.  A  detour  made  with  infinite  pains 
and  exertion  brought  him  to  the  cabin  by  a  path 
that  he  thought  the  sure-footed  beast  might 
follow. 

How  John  found  his  way  to  the  half-frozen 
beast  and  then  slowly  got  him  back  to  the  cabin 
he  never  knew.  Only  his  indomitable  pluck  and 
his  training  pulled  him  through.  But  at  last  the 
terrible  journey  was  safely  accomplished,  and 
boy  and  steed  stood  before  the  low  door. 

John  took  off  the  saddle,  and  the  intelligent 
animal,  bending  his  knees  a  little,  squeezed 
through.  The  boy  followed,  throwing  the  sad- 
dle blanket  over  the  horse's  shivering  flanks  and 
wondering  if  they  were  safe,  even  now.  At  best 
it  was  a  poor  shelter;  the  wind  blew  the  sharp, 
powdery  snow  through  the  chinks  in  the  logs  and 
kept  the  temperature  almost  as  low  within  as 
without,  but  at  least  there  was  a  roof  and  a  wind 
break. 

After  a  short  rest,  John  scrambled  up  the  slope 
to  the  dead  tree  and  broke  off  some  branches. 
The  wood  was  still  dry,  except  on  the  very  out- 
side, and  made  good  kindling.  Soon  a  fire  was 
blazing,  and  boy  and  beast  absorbed  the  heat 
gratefully.  Only  those  who  have  suffered  great 
and  deadly  cold  can  realize  the  delight  of  sitting 
167 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

before  a  blaze  once  more.  The  very  sight  of  the 
flames  puts  life  into  the  veins  and  makes  a  mere 
nightmare  of  what  was  just  now  a  grim  and  awful 
reality. 

Thoroughly  warmed,  and  with  new  courage 
and  strength,  John  went  outside  again  and  began 
to  stop  up  the  chinks  with  snow  and  to  scrape 
banks  of  it  up  against  the  walls.  The  heat  from 
within  melted  the  inner  surface,  which  after- 
wards froze  and  prevented  the  wind  from  blow- 
ing it  away. 

All  day  John  was  kept  busy  gathering  wood 
and  patching  the  walls.  By  nightfall  a  good 
supply  of  fuel  had  been  collected  and  the  little 
cabin  was  by  comparison  c.omfortable.  There 
was  little  sleep  for  the  boy  that  night,  however. 
The  fury  of  the  storm  did  not  abate;  the  wind 
howled  round  their  little  refuge,  shaking  it  so  it 
seemed  as  if  it  would  be  impossible  for  it  to  with- 
stand the  blast. 

All  night  long  he  listened  to  the  roaring  of  the 
wind,  taking  "  cat  naps  "  during  the  short  lulls 
that  came  at  intervals.  The  fire  required  con- 
stant replenishment,  and  Baldy,  unaccustomed 
to  confinement  in  such  a  small  space,  was  so  rest- 
less that  continual  watchfulness  was  necessary  to 
keep  from  under  his  feet,  though  the  good  horse 
would  never  have  harmed  his  young  master  ex- 
168 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

cept  by  accident.  Both  boy  and  beast  began  also 
to  suffer  greatly  from  hunger. 

At  dawn  the  gale  subsided  somewhat,  and 
John  realized  that  he  must  get  food  at  once  if 
his  life  and  that  of  his  horse  were  to  be  saved. 
Breaking  through  the  snow  bank  which  had  piled 
up  against  the  rude  door,  he  made  his  way  to  a 
creek  half  a  mile  down  the  mountain  and  cut 
with  his  knife  an  armful  of  poplar  saplings  and 
carried  them  back  to  the  hut.  Baldy  tore  off 
the  bark  from  these  and  munched  it  contentedly; 
another  armful  was  added  to  the  store,  and  then 
John  bade  his  equine  friend  good-by  and  started 
off  to  find  food  and  shelter  for  himself. 

The  six  miles  that  separated  the  lonely  cabin 
from  the  mining  camp  were  the  longest  and  most 
trying  that  John  had  ever  travelled,  he  thought. 
Great  drifts  barred  his  way,  the  wind,  still  strong, 
blew  in  his  face  and  seemed  bent  on  his  destruc- 
tion, his  empty  stomach  weakened  him,  and  lack 
of  sleep  undermined  his  resolution. 

From  dawn  till  noon  day  he  battled  with  the 
snow,  and  when  at  last  he  reached  his  father's 
house  he  was  hardly  able  to  answer  the  questions 
which  his  overjoyed  family  put  to  him. 

A  man  was  sent  back  to  look  after  Baldy.  He 
found  that  good  horse  chewing  poplar  bark  as 
calmly  as  if  he  was  in  his  own  stable,  though  the 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

cabin  was  so  small  and  the  horse  so  large  in  com- 
parison that  it  appeared  to  be  resting  on  his  back, 
like  the  howdah  on  an  elephant.  For  several 
days  Baldy  was  kept  in  the  cabin  and  fed  on  hay, 
which  had  to  be  carried  to  him  on  foot;  then, 
after  considerable  trouble,  for  a  trail  had  to  be 
stamped  down  much  of  the  way,  he  was  led  back 
in  triumph  to  the  camp,  where  John,  rather  weak 
in  the  knees,  greeted  him  joyfully. 

For  a  week  Ragged  Edge  Camp  did  not  receive 
any  mail.  Late  one  afternoon  John  appeared  on 
snowshoes,  bearing  the  precious  packet.  He 
had  to  repeat  his  story  many  times,  and  Burns 
had  the  satisfaction  of  qualifying  his  admiration 
of  the  boy's  pluck  with  an  emphatic  "  I  told  you 
so." 

John  continued  to  carry  the  mail  between 
Ragged  Edge  Camp  and  the  railroad  every  three 
or  four  days:  at  first  on  foot,  then,  as  the  snow 
melted,  on  his  faithful  Baldy  once  more. 

Though  his  work  took  him  away  from  camp 
much  of  the  time,  John  was  continually  running 
foul  of  the  boys  who  belonged  to  the  other  fac- 
tion, and  Ben  was  the  object  of  their  unceasing 
abuse.  A  crowd  of  these  fellows  would  stop 
their  games  and  yell  at  them  those  taunts  which 
are  so  exasperating  to  a  boy : 

"  There  go  those  Western  jays." 
170 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

"  Look  at  the  kids  that  don't  know  the  differ- 
ence between  a  baseball  and  a  lump  of  mud." 

It  was  true  that  our  boys  were  not  up  on  the 
national  game  or  any  other  game  played  simply 
for  amusement;  their  sports  were  merely  another 
form  of  some  kind  of  work. 

Then  the  camp  boys  began  to  taunt  John  on 
his  fighting  abilities,  their  object  being  to  get 
him  to  stand  up  against  some  one  who  would  be 
sure  to  beat  him.  This  was  one  of  John's  weak 
points ;  he  was  immensely  proud  of  his  prowess  as 
a  fighter;  so  when  one  of  the  boys  said  in  his  pres- 
ence :  "  Worth  said  to-day  that  he  could  lick 
Casey,"  he  did  not  correct  the  falsehood  there 
and  then,  but  put  on  an  air  of  superiority  that 
had  the  effect  desired.  Casey,  though  not  a  big 
fellow,  was  out  of  his  'teens,  and  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  "  scrapper  from  'way  back,"  as 
the  boys  said.  He  also  heard  the  young  mis- 
chief-maker's statement.  "  Jab  him,  Casey;  he's 
only  a  bluffer,"  said  several  of  his  companions. 
He  could  not  ignore  the  challenge  which  was 
plainly  indicated,  and,  according  to  boy  customs, 
not  to  be  avoided.  Few  boys  know  how  much 
bravery  it  takes  to  dare  an  unjust  imputation  of 
cowardice.  John  and  Casey  were  soon  talking 
hotly — not  that  they  had  anything  against  each 
other,  but  they  were  being  egged  on  and  neither 
171 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

could  withstand  the  pressure.  The  result  was  a 
fight,  the  consequences  of  which  had  great  influ- 
ence, on  one  of  the  principals  at  least. 

Casey  was  really  a  grown  man,  and  John  had 
never  fought  in  earnest  with  one  old  enough  to 
wear  a  mustache,  but  his  blood  was  up  now  and 
he  would  not  back  down. 

The  two  retired  behind  a  large  stable  and  a 
crowd  of  men  and  boys  formed  a  ring. 

"  Keep  him  at  arm's  length,"  whispered  Ben, 
as  he  took  off  his  brother's  coat  and  cinched  up 
his  belt  firmly  round  his  waist.  "  Don't  let  him 
hug  you  and  you'll  lick  him,  sure."  Ben  spoke 
confidently,  but  he  was  in  reality  consumed  with 
anxiety.  John  said  nothing,  but  the  look  of 
reckless  determination  on  his  face  spoke  volumes. 

The  two  antagonists  now  stood  face  to  face, 
but  neither  had  yet  struck  a  blow.  "  How  do 
you  want  to  fight?  "  Casey  asked. 

"  You  fight  your  way  and  I'll  fight  my  way," 
John  answered;  and  at  the  word  struck  out.  The 
crowd  yelled  "Foul,"  but  neither  took  any  notice. 
The  blow  was  not  a  hard  one,  but  it  served  its 
purpose,  for  it  stopped  the  talk  and  began  open 
hostilities. 

Casey  came  at  John,  his  arms  jerking  back  and 
forth,  but  hitting  nothing.  John  drew  his  lead 
and  then,  as  his  guard  was  lowered,  threw  in  his 
172 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

own  left  with  staggering  effect.  This  angered 
Casey  greatly,  and  he  rushed  his  opponent  in  a 
vain  effort  to  get  in  a  deciding  blow  at  once;  but 
his  rushes  were  avoided  nimbly,  and  as  his  de- 
fence was  careless  many  blows  were  rained  on 
his  head  and  body.  Evidently  the  boy  knew 
more  about  boxing  than  he  did,  Casey  thought, 
and  as  the  method  of  fighting  was  left  undecided 
he  determined  to  change  his  tactics.  In  a  rough- 
and-tumble  fight  he  knew  his  age  and  strength 
would  tell.  To  close  in  and  grapple  with  John 
was  his  purpose  now.  So  far  the  battle  was  in 
the  boy's  favor,  and  a  number  of  the  wavering 
ones  came  over  to  his  side.  "  He's  getting  low 
now,  Worth.  Swing  on  him,"  said  one  of  them; 
and  John,  acting  on  the  advice,  quickly  landed  a 
stiff  one  on-  the  jaw.  Casey  fell,  but  John  stood 
to  one  side  and  waited  till  he  got  up.  He  was 
angry  clear  through.  Again  and  again  he 
rushed,  but  was  beaten  off  each  time.  He  aimed 
a  savage  blow,  which  John  almost  succeeded  in 
dodging.  It  landed  lightly,  but  gave  Casey  the 
opportunity  he  sought  and  they  clinched,  the 
miner  hugging  with  all  his  might. 

"  Oh,  John!  "  muttered  Ben. 

"  Good  work,"  yelled  the  crowd,  who  had  sud- 
denly deserted  to  Casey's  side. 

It  was  the  greatest  squeeze  that  John  had  ever 
173 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

had.  The  blood  rushed  to  his  head,  his  breath- 
ing became  more  and  more  difficult,  but  still  he 
struggled,  twisted,  and  strained,  and  at  last  both 
fell  and  the  man's  terrible  grip  was  loosened. 
He  did  not  let  go,  however,  and  in  a  couple  of 
seconds  both  were  on  their  feet  and  struggling 
with  might  and  main  to  gain  the  mastery.  Again 
they  went  down,  this  time  John  underneath  and 
on  his  back.  The  crowd  paused  an  instant  be- 
fore pulling  Casey  off,  but  during  that  pause  he 
made  good  use  of  his  time,  raining  blow  after 
blow  on  John's  upturned  face.  John  was  licked. 

Most  of  the  spectators  followed  the  victor,  but 
some  remained  behind,  not  to  sympathize  and 
condole,  but  to  jeer  at  John's  defeat  and  laugh 
at  his  discomfiture.  It  was  gall  and  bitterness  to 
the  boy,  and  he  was  glad  to  get  away  out  of  ear- 
shot. Ben  helped  him  put  on  his  clothes  and  led 
him  down  to  the  creek  to  bathe  his  bruised  face. 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  hand?"  Ben 
said  suddenly,  as  he  noticed  the  blood  trickling 
over  the  knuckles  of  his  brother's  right  hand. 

"  He  chewed  it,"  John  answered. 

"  What !  bit  you !  "  Ben  exclaimed. 

"  My  arm  was  around  his  neck  and  he  grabbed 
my  thumb  in  his  mouth.  He  wouldn't  have  got 
me  so  easy  but  for  that." 

For  a  time  neither  boy  said  a  word.  How  a 
174 


BATTLE  ROYAL. 

man  could  do  such  "  dirty  work,"  as  Ben  said, 
was  more  than  he  could  understand.* 

On  the  way  back  to  the  house  several  fellows 
stopped  to  call  at  John  as  he  went  by,  for  the 
news  had  spread.  He  realized  that  it  would 
take  a  long  time  to  live  down  this  disgrace.  His 
heart  was  sore;  it  seemed  as  if  this  was  the  cul- 
mination of  all  his  hardships;  he  felt  as  if  his 
life  had  been  all  work  and  no  play,  that  his  efforts 
to  do  his  duty  had  not  been  appreciated,  that 
though  other  boys  might  enjoy  themselves  much 
of  the  time  (and  he  had  seen  them  in  this  very 
camp)  he  must  work,  work,  work;  he  felt,  in 
short,  very  much  abused  and  at  swords'  points 
with  everybody — his  brother  excepted.  One 
more  blow  of  bad  luck,  he  thought,  would  "  cap 
the  climax  "  and  would  result  in  he  knew  not 
what  desperation. 

Before  the  boys  had  reached  the  house  the 
news  of  his  defeat  had  been  made  known  there, 
and  Mr.  Worth,  thinking  that  John  had  become 
more  or  less  a  bully,  determined  that  the  lesson 
he  had  received  should  be  a  lasting  one. 

"Hello,  John!  "  he  said  jovially,  as  the  two 
boys  came  slowly  in,  "you  met  your  match  to- 
day, I  hear.  "Whipped  you  well,  didn't  he?  " 


*  John  Worth  bears  the  marks  of  Casey's  teeth  on  his  thumb  to  this 
day. 

175 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

-  John  hung  his  head  and  tried  to  hide  the  tears 
that  would  rush  out  over  his  swollen  cheeks. 

"  Hold  up  here,  let  me  see  your  face,"  said  the 
father  roughly.  "  "Well,  he  did  give  it  to  you : 
eyes  blacked,  face  scratched,  mouth  swollen — 
you're  a  sight.  You'll  be  more  careful  next 
time,  I  guess,"  he  added. 

John  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  room. 

"  Ben,"  he  said,  on  meeting  his  brother  out- 
side, "  I'm  going  away." 

"  Going  away? "  Ben  repeated  in  wonder. 
"  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  don't  care.  I'm  not  going  to 
show  my  face  in  caniQ  again ;  even  father  at  home 
laughs  and  jeers  at  me.  I'm  going  to  leave 
to-night." 


176 


CHAPTER    XI. 

A   TRYING   JOUKNEY. 

"  I'm  glad  I'm  going,  Ben,  but  I'm  sorry  to 
leave  you;  you'll  go  back  and  tell  them  I've 
gone — and  be  good  to  Baldy,  won't  you?  I'll 
write  to  you  when  I  get  to  Helena." 

It  was  long  past  midnight,  and  Ben  was  start- 
ing his  brother  on  his  journey  to  the  great  city 
that  neither  had  seen.  It  was  his  present  ob- 
jective point;  how  far  beyond  he  would  go  he 
did  not  dream. 

"  How  much  money  have  you?  "  inquired  Ben 
anxiously. 

"  Nearly  ten  dollars,  with  your  three.  That'll 
keep  me  going  till  I  get  a  job." 

"  But  say,  John,  wait  a  few  days  and  we  can 
sell  a  horse  or  a  saddle."  Ben  hung  on  to  his 
brother's  arm  and  tried  to  pull  him  back;  his 
small,  freckled  face  was  full  of  entreaty  and 
trouble.  "  Regan  will  buy  the  three-year-old 
after  pay  day.  You'd  better  wait." 

"  Oh,  I've  thought  of  all  that,"  said  John.  "  I 
12  177 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

could  ride  the  colt  off,  for  that  matter,  but  I'm 
not  going  to  take  away  a  thing — except  enough 
money  to  last  till  I  get  work." 

"Don't  forget  to  write,  John,  will  you? 
They'll  blame  me  at  home  for  not  telling  about 
this,  so  don't  make  it  too  hard  for  me."  Ben's 
voice  was  not  very  steady,  and  the  note  of  appeal 
in  it  affected  John  greatly.  "  Tell  me  if  work 
is  plenty,  for  I'm  going  myself  before  long — I'll 
be  so  lonesome." 

They  shook  hands  without  a  word,  each  turn- 
ing his  face  away,  ashamed  of  the  tears  that 
would  come  despite  their  efforts  to  suppress  them. 

"  Good-by." 

"  Good-by." 

Ben  turned  down  the  trail  toward  home  and 
John  continued  on  in  the  opposite  direction.  Day 
was  just  breaking;  the  stars  still  shone  above, 
while  the  sun's  mellow  light  brightened  the  east. 
Neither  boy  had  any  eyes  for  the  beauties  of  the 
sunrise;  it  was  hard  for  them  to  part  and  neither 
could  think  of  anything  else.  They  had  been 
not  only  brothers  but  "  pardners."  Never  be- 


A    TETING  JOURNEY. 

fore  had  they  been  separated.  Rocked  in  the 
same  shoe-box  cradle,  playing  with  the  same 
rude  toys,  sharing  the  same  pleasures  and  the 
same  fears,  braving  the  same  dangers,  and  divid- 
ing bread  or  blanket  when  need  be,  they  had 
grown  up  so  closely  that  they  did  not  realize  the 
bond  till  it  was  about  to  be  broken. 

Brothers  still  they  would  be,  but  "  pardners  " 
never  again. 

When  out  of  sight,  each,  unknown  to  the  other, 
dropped  to  the  earth  and  cried  bitterly.  Ben's 
share  of  grief  was  the  heavier.  No  change  of 
scene  for  him;  no  excitement  of  anticipated  ad- 
venture; no  new  sights,  experiences,  or  friends; 
the  world  was  not  spread  out  before  him  to  enter 
at  will  and  to  roam  over;  none  of  the  delights  of 
freedom  were  to  fall  to  his  lot.  Only  duty, 
weary,  commonplace,  devoid  of  companionship 
and  boyish  sympathy.  He  went  sorrowfully 
home. 

John,  his  cry  over,  felt  better.  The  sun  was 
now  coming  out  in  his  full  strength,  the  birds 
poured  forth  melody,  the  cool  morning  was  re- 
freshing. In  spite  of  the  parting  wrench  he 
could  not  help  feeling  exhilarated,  and  the 
thought  that,  no  matter  what  might  happen,  he 
was  free,  made  him  almost  joyous.  He  sprang 
up,  dashed  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  started 
179 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

along  the  trail,  shouting  aloud:  "I  don't  care." 
He  repeated  it  again  and  again,  trying  to  con- 
vince himself  that  he  really  didn't  care. 

It  was  too  late  to  turn  back  now,  even  if  he 
wanted  to;  he  knew  his  father's  character,  and 
he  did  not  fear  pursuit.  He  wished  now  that  he 
had  walked  manfully  up  to  him  and  told  him. 
"  But  he  laughed  at  me,"  he  said  aloud,  arguing 
with  himself.  "  I  do  not  care,"  this  between  his 
teeth;  and  then  he  marched  on,  his  head  held 
high,  defiantly. 

It  was  fifteen  miles  to  the  railroad,  John  knew; 
but  how  much  further  to  Helena  he  had  no  idea 
— he  had  not  thought  of  it  before. 

The  trail  he  was  following  led  him  across  the 
range  down  to  the  main  road  on  Savage  Creek. 
The  mountain  walk  was  fine,  the  air  cool  and 
bracing,  the  sounds  of  bird  and  insect  grateful. 
Before  long  he  reached  the  creek  and  drank 
deeply  of  its  clear  waters,  washing  his  bruised 
face  and  hands.  This  he  did  gingerly,  for  his 
wounds  were  still  fresh  and  his  bitten  thumb, 
which  no  one  at  home  had  seen,  pained  him  ex- 
ceedingly. The  danger  from  a  wound  by  the 
human  tooth  is  very  great,  but  John  realized 
nothing  but  the  pain. 

The  slices  of  bread  and  meat  which  Ben  had 
wrapped  in  an  old  newspaper  for  him  were  eaten 
180 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

with  relish.  Though  he  was  somewhat  tired,  and 
his  body  still  stiff  from  the  hard  usage  of  the  day 
before,  he  could  not  bear  to  sit  still  and  think. 
At  intervals  the  tears  welled  up  in  spite  of  his 
efforts  to  keep  them  back.  "  I  won't  think,"  he 
said,  and  repeated  his  assertion,  "  I  don't  care," 
to  keep  his  courage  up. 

A  piece  of  bread  still  in  his  hand,  munching 
as  he  walked,  he  struck  off  down  the  trail  at  a 
strong  pace,  resolved  to  reach  the  railroad  and 
get  to  Helena  quick. 

After  several  miles  of  sharp  walking  along 
the  Savage  Creek  road,  he  heard  the  heavy 
chug-chug  and  rattle  of  freight  wagons  ahead 
of  him.  He  soon  overtook  them  and  hailed  the 
driver. 

"  Hello,  kid;  where'd  you  come  from?  "  called 
that  worthy  cheerily,  from  his  perch  on  the  near 
wrheel  mule,  his  leg  thrown  carelessly  over  the 
horn  of  the  saddle,  the  picture  of  contentment. 

"  Up  the  road  a  way,"  answered  John  evas- 
ively. "  How  far  is  it  to  the  railroad?  " 

"  What  d'ye  want  of  the  railroad?  "  asked  the 
"  mule  skinner  "  sharply,  bringing  his  foot  down 
and  sitting  erect. 

John  knew  that  these  freighters  did  not  look 
with  favor  on  the  railroads  or  with  any  one  or 
thing  connected  with  them,  for  they  declared  bit- 
181 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

terly  that  the  railroads  robbed  them  of  their 
business. 

"  It's  only  a  couple  of  miles  to  the  railroad," 
the  man  continued.  "  But  it's  eighteen  miles  to 
a  station.  A  railroad's  no  good  without  a  star 
tion;  climb  in  this  and  take  a  ride." 

John  climbed  up  as  the  wagon  moved  slowly 
along.  He  was  tired,  and  the  cheerful  "  mule 
skinner  "  was  a  desirable  companion,  for  the  time 
at  least.  The  man  lifted  his  leg  again  and  turned 
in  his  saddle,  the  better  to  talk  to  his  passenger. 

"  I  was  cornin'  down  the  road  last  month,"  he 
began,  "  and  the  pesky  train  half  a  mile  away 
scared  my  mules  nigh  out  of  their  wits.  Mules 
don't  like  trains;  don't  blame  them  neither.  It's 
thrown  the  critters  out  of  work  and  is  f orcin'  me 
clear  out  o'  business — how  there,  you  Mag!  "  he 
interrupted  himself  to  shout,  as  the  dainty-footed 
mule  swerved  to  avoid  a  mud-hole.  "  Notice  that 
mule  ?  "  queried  the  teamster. 

John  nodded  an  assent. 

"  She's  one  of  the  finest  near  leaders  in  the 
country;  watch  her  gee."  A  long  jerk  line  ran 
from  the  driver's  saddle  to  the  bit  of  the  near 
leader  of  the  eight-mule  team.  He  pulled  the 
line  gently  and  the  leader  swung  promptly  to  the 
right.  He  pulled  steadily  and  the  intelligent 
animal  swung  back  into  the  road. 
182 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

"  See  that?  Only  a  touch  and  she's  awake. 
That  mule's  a  dandy;  been  offered  two  hundred 
for  her — she's  little,  too."  John  only  nodded, 
but  the  teamster,  glad  enough  to  have  a  listener, 
rattled  on  about  his  grievances,  the  all-absorbing 
railroads  and  the  men  who  ran  them  and  spoiled 
his  business. 

The  wagon  did  not  travel  fast  enough  for  the 
impatient  passenger,  so  before  long  he  scrambled 
down  again. 

"  Must  you  go  ? "  inquired  the  teamster. 
"  Well,  you  leave  the  wagon  road  at  the  third 
bridge  ahead,  and  if  you  cut  across  to  your  left 
you'll  come  to  the  railroad."  The  boy  thanked 
him.  and  started  off  on  a  brisk  walk  down  the  road. 
"  But  it's  eighteen  miles  to  a  station,  and  a  rail- 
road's no  good  without  a  station,"  shouted  the 
mule  skinner,  determined  to  have  one  more  rap 
at  the  iron  trail. 

"  So  long,"  yelled  the  boy  in  return,  and  con- 
tinued at  a  brisk  pace,  in  his  effort  to  drown 
gloomy  feelings  by  rapid  motion. 

At  the  third  bridge  he  left  the  road,  struck 
across  to  the  left,  and  came  upon  the  railroad.  It 
was  a  disappointment,  though  he  found  all  that 
could  be  expected  when  a  "  station  is  eighteen 
miles  away."  The  shining  rails  stretched  away, 
before  and  behind  him,  till  they  ran  together  in 
183 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

the  distance.  The  journey  was  a  weary  one,  the 
track  rough  with  boulders,  the  ties  hard  and  un- 
yielding to  his  heel,  and  just  too  near  together  to 
allow  of  an  easy  stride.  Momentarily  the  heat  of 
the  sun  increased,  and  the  track  seemed  to  reflect 
it  back  more  intensely.  There  was  no  shade  and 
the  heavens  were  brazen.  He  stopped  at  every 
brook  to  drink  and  bathe  his  blistering  feet  and 
cool  his  aching  hand.  Though  he  had  eaten 
nothing  since  early  morning  he  did  not  feel 
hunger,  except  in  its  weakening  effect.  On 
and  on  he  trudged,  hour  after  hour,  until  swing- 
ing his  legs  became  mechanical  and  he  ceased 
to  feel  even  weariness.  At  length  a  cooling 
rain  began  to  fall,  wetting  him  thoroughly  and 
arousing  him  to  faint  gratitude  for  the  relief  it 
brought. 

Just  before  nightfall  an  object  loomed  up 
far  down  the  track;  it  was  the  station  at  last! 
The  boy  struggled  on,  limping,  his  mouth 
open  and  dry,  his  bitten  hand  swollen  to  twice 
its  usual  size;  and  now  reaching  a  water  tank 
near  the  platform,  he  dropped  down  by  it,  cruelly 
tired. 

After  a  short  rest,  he  raised  his  head  and 

looked  around.      ISTot  another  building  was  in 

sight  but  the  station,  and  not  a  morsel  of  food 

had  he  eaten  since  early  morning.     "  I'll  tackle 

184 


A   TRYING  JOURNEY. 

the  station  people  for  something  to  eat,"  he  said 
to  himself,  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word/ 
presented  himself  at  the  door.  A  woman  was 
there,  but  in  the  dusk  she  took  him  for  a  tramp, 
slamming  the  door  in  his  face  when  he  asked  for 
food.  His  only  hope  now  was  to  catch  a  train 
and  reach  some  settlement.  The  station  agent 
dashed  his  last  hope  by  saying  that  the  last  train 
for  the  night  had  gone;  but  noticing  the  boy's 
forlorn  appearance  he  spoke  to  him  kindly,  so 
John  plucked  up  courage  to  say :  "  Where  can  I 
buy  something  to  eat?  "  The  man  responded  by 
bringing  him  food,  and,  while  the  boy  was  grate- 
fully eating,  told  him  that  he  would  be  glad  to 
let  him  rest  on  the  waiting-room  floor  during  the 
night,  but  since  the  rules  of  the  road  did  not  per- 
mit of  this  the  best  shelter  he  could  offer  was  a 
vacant  building  across  the  track.  John  accepted 
the  suggestion  gladly,  for  he  was  tired  in  every 
fibre.  u  Good  night;  that  supper  was  bully, 
thank  you,"  he  said  to  the  agent. 

"  Looks  like  rain,"  said  the  other,  following  to 
the  door.  "  Hello,  there's  a  fire  in  that  house 
already ;  must  be  some  other  fellows  there  for  the 
night.  You'll  have  company,  but  look  out  that 
they  don't  rob  you.  Good  night." 

As   John   approached   the   outhouse   he   saw 
through  the  half-open  door  a  blazing  fire  and  a 
185 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


half  dozen  tough-looking  men  seated  around  it, 
warming  themselves  and  drying  their  tattered 
clothes. 

A  hesitating  knock  on  the  door  frame  received 
a  chorus  of  "  Come  ins."  The  old  door  swung 
back  on  its  leather  hinges  with  a  jolt  and  John 
entered. 

The  ruddy  firelight  gleamed  on  the  face  of  a 
slovenly  fellow  who  sat  beyond  the  fire.  It  was 
a  well-fed  face,  rounded,  and  not  ill-looking  in 
contour,  but  grimy  and  littered  with  little  tufts 
of  whisker;  a  gray  flannel  shirt,  red  neckerchief 
and  greasy-collared  tan  canvas  coat  clothed  the 
upper  part  of  his  body,  and  John  cast  his  eye 
about  on  four  other  specimens  of  the  same  type, 
seated  on  ties  about  the  blaze. 

"  Where  from,  kid?  "  asked  one,  as  all  turned 
to  observe  the  newcomer.  All  they  saw  was  a 
weary,  hesitating  boy.  "  Come  up  to  the  fire," 
they  said  cordially,  and  moved  to  make  room  for 
him.  "  Which  way  you  goin'  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  West,"  he  answered,  his  glance 
taking  in  the  whole  crowd. 

"  We're  goin'  West  too.  Did  you  come  in  on 
that  last  freight?  "  asked  one. 

John  shook  his  head. 

"  No?  Well,  we  all  got  put  off  here  a  little 
while  ago;  the  con  and  other  brakies  got  onto 
186 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

us  and  fired  us.  We  wanted  a  sleep  anyhow — 
been  ridin'  two  days  straight."  (John  wondered 
for  a  time  what  "  con  "  and  "  brakies  "  meant, 
but  finally  concluded  that  the  words  might  be 
translated  into  conductor  and  brakeman.) 

"  I  walked  in/'  said  the  boy  innocently. 

A  look  of  pity  showed  plainly  on  each  hobo's 
face  as  he  echoed  "  Walked  ?  "  That  any  one 
would  walk,  with  a  railroad  near,  was  beyond  the 
comprehension  of  these  tramps,  for  tramps  they 
were — the  regulation  kind. 

"  You're  green  on  the  road,  kid,"  said  one, 
whose  name  was  Jimmy,  as  John  soon  learned. 
"  You'll  soon  get  sick  of  counting  ties,"  he  con- 
tinued, gazing  curiously  at  the  boy,  as  did  they 
all.  "Why,  kid,  I've  travelled  this  country  from 
side  to  side  and  from  top  to  bottom  in  the  last 
fifteen  years  and  I've  yet  to  walk  a  step — except 
off  one  side  to  get  feed,"  he  added  in  explanation. 

"  But  I  hadn't  money  to  ride,"  said  John, 
innocently. 

"  Money?  Ho!  ho!  Why  I  haven't  seen  the 
color  of  coin  this  summer.  What  d'ye  want  of 
money?  Beat 'em;  we'll  show  you."  He  spoke 
with  a  sort  of  professional  pride,  and  the  ex- 
pression was  reflected  on  the  faces  of  the  other 
men. 

John's  bruised  countenance  had  been  noticed, 
187 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

but  as  he  had  evidently  been  whipped  in  some 
fistic  argument  it  was  etiquette  not  to  question 
too  openly,  but  to  approach  the  matter  indirectly. 
By  degrees  they  learned  that  he  had  had  trouble 
and  left  home. 

"  I  left  home  just  at  his  age,  boys,"  said  Big 
Larry,  an  American-born  Irishman. 

"  That  so  ?  "  said  one  encouragingly. 

"  Yep,  'twas  like  this.  Back  in  the  East — " 
And  Larry  launched  forth  on  a  recital  of  the  cir- 
cumstances which  led  him  to  "  take  to  the  road  " 
and  follow  it  ever  since. 

Two  others  had  similar  experiences.  Jimmy, 
however,  frankly  admitted  that  he  took  to  it 
from  choice.  "  When  I  was  twenty-one,"  he  be- 
gan, "  I  was  engaged  to  be  married,  and  expected 
to  settle  down  and  be  a  family  man."  This 
statement  seemed  to  amuse  the  hoboes,  for  they 
laughed  uproariously.  "  My  mother — she's  a 
widow,"  Jimmy  continued  unmoved,  "  gave  me 
five  hundred  dollars  to  set  me  up  in  the  butcher 
business  in  our  town  in  Ohio.  Well,  things  went 
on  fine  till  pretty  near  the  happy  day,  when  I 
began  to  see  that  the  girl  was  getting  offish  and  I 
told  her  so.  She  got  hot  and  said  something 
about  another  chap  that  I  didn't  like,  and  I  quit 
her — quit  her  cold."  A  grunt  of  approval  went 
round  the  circle. 

188 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

"  It  cut  me  up  some  and  I  got  to  drinkin'  a 
little,  and  soon  I  was  drinkin'  harder.  The  five 
hundred  my  mother  gave  me  and  the  five  hun- 
dred I  had  already  saved  up  went  in  no  time,  for 
before  long  I  was  drinkin'  like  a  fish  all  round 
the  town.  My  mother  wanted  me  to  swear  off, 
and  said  she'd  give  me  another  start,  but  I  knew 
it  wasn't  no  use  and  told  her  so  and  pulled  out  of 
the  town  on  a  freight  train.  Been  at  it  ever 
since." 

"  Pretty  tough  on  your  mother,"  said  Larry. 

"  You  must  'a'  had  about  a  thousand,  Jimmy," 
ventured  a  less  thoughtful  one. 

"  Yes,  it  was  pretty  tough  on  the  old  lady,  but 
I  was  no  good  for  that  place,  and  she'd  spent 
enough  money  on  me.  Had  about  a  thousand, 
an'  it's  more  than  I've  had  since  all  put  together, 
an'  more  than  I'll  ever  see  again,"  the  tramp 
added,  musingly.  "  I'll  never  leave  the  road 
now;  I  like  it.  A  man  doesn't  have  to  worry 
about  anything,  he's  better  without  money  an' 
he  gets  enough  to  eat,  always  seein'  new  places, 
learnin'  about  the  country,  and  findin'  new 
friends." 

Most  of  this  speech  was  made  for  John's  bene- 
fit, and  he  listened  with  interest. 

"  Now,  boys,  not  one  of  us  had  seen  the 
other  forty-eight  hours  ago,  and  yet  here  we 
189 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

are  round  our  fire  talkin'  sociable,  spinnin' 
yarns  and  hearin'  'em  told;  and  I'll  bet  we're 
happier  than  any  six  millionaires  in  New  York 
city." 

"  Yes,  we  are,"  they  said  emphatically,  in 
chorus.  John  thought  much  and  said  nothing. 

"  People  s'pose  we  don't  have  to  work,"  said 
Shorty,  another  of  the  group,  "  but  I'd  like  to 
see  them  dudes  work  from  Chicago  to  'Frisco  on 
a  freight  train.  Why,  them  fellers  don't  know 
a  brake  beam  from  a  drawhead,  to  say  nothin'  of 
ridin'  rods,  breakin'  seals  on  box  cars,  foolin' 
brakies,  and  a  hundred  other  of  the  little  fine 
points  of  our  trade." 

"  An'  then,"  chimed  in  another,  "  if  we  don't 
work  much,  we  don't  get  much,  so  what's  any- 
body else  got  to  kick  about,  s'long's  we're  satis- 
fied?" 

Everybody  agreed,  and  the  group  dropped  into 
a  cheerful  silence. 

John  had  listened,  it  must  be  confessed,  rather 
admiringly;  the  freedom  and  apparent  ease  of 
the  life  fascinated  him,  and  he  had  half  a  mind  to 
become  a  hobo.  He  did  not  realize  the  degrada- 
tion that  went  with  it,  the  dishonest  acts  that 
were  necessary  to  secure  food  without  money,  the 
hardship  it  entailed,  and  the  constant  uncer- 
tainty of  it  all. 

190 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

The  thing  that  bothered  him  was  the  food 
supply,  and  he  finally  ventured  the  question: 
"  Where  will  you  get  your  breakfast  in  the 
morning  ?  " 

"  Breakfast  ?  Well,  we  may  not  get  it  till 
dinner  time,  but  we'll  get  it.  There  are  a  few 
houses  at  a  gravel  pit  half  a  mile  ahead,  where 
we  got  supper  last  night,  but  they're  hard  to  work 
and  we'll  have  to  get  to  Helena  before  we  chew," 
explained  Larry  cheerfully.  "  But  you're  all 
right  with  that  hand  of  yours,"  broke  in  Jimmy. 
"  You  can  work  the  sore-hand  racket  all  right; 
just  show  that  to  a  motherly-looking  woman  and 
she'll  fill  you  up  quick." 

"  I  worked  the  sore-hand  dodge  myself  for  a 
beautiful  hand-out  last  night  down  at  the  gravel 
pit,"  said  Shorty. 

John  began  to  realize  that  it  was  a  pretty  pre- 
carious and  mean  way  of  living,  to  depend  on 
people's  generosity  for  sustenance. 

As  the  evening  passed  the  talk  subsided,  and 
when  the  suggestion  to  sleep  was  given  there  was 
not  a  dissenting  voice — from  John  least  of  all. 
All  lay  down  in  a  row,  their  feet  toward  the  fire. 
The  coats  had  been  taken  off  and  spread  over  the 
row  so  that  each  made  a  covering  of  two  thick- 
nesses. 

Toward  morning  the  boy  was  awakened  by  a 
191 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

hand  that  fumbled  about  his  pocket — the  one 
which  contained  his  money.  Fortunately  he  had 
taken  the  precaution  before  going  to  sleep  to  put 
his  own  hand  in  and  grasp  the  money.  His  hand 
was  being  slowly  withdrawn  when  he  quickly 
turned  over,  and  then,  fearing  to  sleep  again,  he 
rose  and  sat  down  by  the  wall,  his  head  against 
the  rough  boards. 

At  daybreak  a  freight  train  came  rumbling 
into  the  station  and  stopped.  In  an  instant  the 
tramps  were  up,  and,  separating,  ran  for  the 
train.  John  was  left  alone,  wondering  what  to 
do,  but  only  for  a  minute,  for  Jimmy  came  run- 
ning back,  and  with  a  hurried  "  I'll  help  you," 
rushed  him  over  to  a  pile  of  ties.  When  the 
trainmen  had  gone  into  the  station,  Jimmy  took 
the  boy  over  to  a  car  and  pointing  under  it  said : 
"  Never  rode  a  brake  beam?  Well,  I'll  show  you. 
See  that  brake  beam?  "  He  pointed  out  the  bar 
that  held  the  brake  shoes  and  crossed  from  wheel 
to  wheel  under  the  car.  "  And  those  rods  run- 
ning lengthwise  from  it?  Well,  you  sit  on  the 
bar  and  hold  on  to  the  rods.  See,  like  this," 
and  he  slipped  under  the  car  and  sat  down  on  the 
wooden  bar,  his  legs  dangling  and  his  hands 
grasping  the  rods.  "  I  see,"  said  John,  and  in 
a  second  had  taken  Jimmy's  place. 

"Good,  here's  my  board;  I'll  get  along  with  my 
192 


A    TRYING  JOURNEY. 

coat  wrapped  round  if  I  need  to,"  and  he  handed 
a  board  a  foot  long  and  eight  inches  wide,  having 
a  slot  cut  in  one  end.  This  John  fitted  over  the 
rod,  and  it  gave  him  a  safer  and  more  comfort- 
able seat. 

"Here  they  come;  keep  dark."  Jimmy  dis- 
appeared, and  the  conductor's  lantern  came 
swinging  down  toAvard  the  engine;  his  feet 
crunched  the  gravel  as  he  passed,  and  John's 
heart  was  in  his  mouth. 

"  Pull  out  at  once,"  was  the  order,  and  the 
engine  backed  viciously  for  its  start,  nearly  jerk- 
ing John  from  his  perch. 

"  Say,  kid,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  " — it  was 
Jim  alongside  again — "  look  out  and  don't  get 
pinched  in  the  air-brake  rods;  they're  bad.  When 
the  train's  stopping,  keep  low  and  you'll  be  all 
right.  I'm  on  the  next  car  behind." 

The  train  was  now  gathering  headway,  and 
John  wondered  how  Jimmy  would  reach  the 
wheel  trucks  between  the  now  fast  revolving 
wheels.  A  peculiar  sensation  came  over  the  boy 
• — half  fear,  half  exhilaration.  The  whirring 
wheels  clacked  and  thumped  the  rail  joints,  the 
ties  flew  underneath  dizzily,  the  dust  rose  like  a 
fog,  and  the  wind  of  the  train  rattled  the  small 
stones  of  the  roadbed  together;  the  heavy  car 
swayed  above  him  dangerously  near,  and  John, 
13  193 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

half  choked  and  wholly  terrified,  wondered  if  he 
would  come  out  of  this  irresistible  whirlwind  of 
a  thing  alive.  All  he  could  do  was  to  grip  the 
rods  at  his  head  and  hang  on. 


194 


CHAPTER   XII. 

A    CHANGE    OF    SCENE. 

For  a  time  John  could  do  nothing  but  hang  on 
like  grim  death.  He  was  half  unconscious;  the 
noise  was  so  great,  the  dust  so  thick,  and  the  mo- 
tion so  altogether  terrifying  that  he  was  nearly 
stupefied.  After  a  while,  however,  he  noticed 
that  the  dreadful  racket  did  not  increase,  that  the 
clicking  of  the  wheels  over  the  rail  joints  had 
become  regular,  and  that  all  the  sounds  had  a 
sort  of  humming  rhythm.  His  nerves  quieted 
down  somewhat,  and  he  realized  that  he  was  still 
alive.  His  grasp  on  the  braking  rods  overhead 
relaxed  slightly,  and  he  began  to  look  around 
him — as  much  as  the  dust  would  allow.  The 
train  was  moving  at  good  speed.  The  ties  below 
seemed  first  to  rush  at  the  boy  threateningly,  and 
then  in  a  twinkling  disappeared  behind;  the  tele- 
graph poles  along  the  track  had  the  same  menac- 
ing attitude  and  seemed  bent  on  his  destruction ; 
objects  further  off  went  by  more  leisurely.  It 
looked  as  if  the  whole  earth,  and  everything  on 
195 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

it,  was  trying  to  run  away  from  the  standing 
train. 

John  soon  found  that  it  made  him  dizzy  to 
watch  the  earth  slip  away  from  under  him,  so  he 
turned  his  eyes  to  his  surroundings.  The  wheels 
moved  so  swiftly  that  they  would  have  seemed 
to  be  standing  still  were  it  not  for  the  side  mo- 
tion, alternately  checked  by  the  flanges;  a  spot  of 
mud  on  the  rapidly  turning  axle  looked  like  a 
white  ring.  Though  this  mode  of  travelling 
was  dangerous,  dirty,  and  unpleasant  in  many 
ways,  John  decided,  in  the  recollection  of  his 
fatigue  the  day  before,  it  was  at  least  better  than 
walking. 

In  half  an  hour  the  wheels  thudded  heavily 
over  a  switch  joint,  the  speed  of  the  train  slack- 
ened, and  the  cylinder  of  the  air  brake  under  the 
centre  of  the  car  groaned  a  warning.  John  re- 
membered his  instructions  and  bent  low  to  avoid 
the  big  iron  lever.  He  watched  it  swing  slowly 
toward  him — nearer,  nearer;  the  rod  attached  to 
it  tightened  until  its  vibrations  sung  in  his  ear. 
The  train  slowed  up  and  then  stopped  with  a  jolt. 
"  Phew !  that  was  close,"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self. He  did  not  dare  to  get  out  of  his  cramped 
position  for  fear  he  would  be  run  over.  His  eyes, 
nose,  and  mouth  were  filled  with  dust,  his  back 
ached  from  his  stooping  posture,  and  the  smell  of 
196 


A    CHANGS   OF  SCENE. 

grease  and  foul  air  escaping  from  the  released 
brake  was  overpowering. 

"  Come  out,  kid,  it's  all  right."  It  was  Jimmy 
who  spoke.  John  crawled  out,  glad  of  a  change. 
A  short  stop  was  made  at  the  station,  during 
which  the  boy  and  the  tramp  lay  in  hiding  in  a 
ditch. 

^Mfc 

The  engine  tooted,  and  they  rushed  up  the       •r* 

^k 

embankment,  but  before  either  man  or  boy  could  v, 
reach  his  perch  the  train  had  begun  to  move. 
John  managed  by  following  Jimmy's  directions 
to  scramble  under  and  on  to  his  brake-beam  seat, 
but  by  the  time  he  was  safely  stowed  away  the 
car  was  going  at  a  good  speed.  The  boy  feared 
greatly  for  his  friend's  safety.  Jimmy,  how- 
ever, seemed  entirely  unconcerned ;  he  ran  along- 
side and  caught  one  of  the  side  rods  that  run 
under  every  freight  car  and  look  like  the  truss 
of  a  bridge;  putting  his  foot  on  the  end  of  the 
brake  beam,  he  swung  himself  under  and  was 
soon  sitting  in  state  opposite  John,  but  half  a  car's 
length  from  him.  This  was  in  reality  a  very  dif- 
ficult feat,  though  it  seems  simple.  If,  in  jump- 
ing from  the  ground  to  the  bar,  his  foot  should 
slip,  it  might  easily  get  caught  in  the  revolving 
wheels,  or  it  would  be  easy  for  him  to  lose  his 
hold  when  swinging  under — sure  death  would 
follow  in  either  case.  John  only  breathed  com- 
197 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

fortably  when  he  saw  his  companion  seated  in 
comparative  safety  on  the  other  braking  gear. 

Before  Helena  was  reached  several  such  stops 
were  made  and  John  learned  to  swing  himself 
under  to  his  perilous  perch,  when  the  car  was  in 
motion,  with  comparative  ease. 

It  was  a  long  and  most  tiresome  trip  for  the 
boy.  Although  he  got  accustomed  to  this  mode 
of  travelling  before  long,  the  dirt  and  smells,  the 
constrained  position,  and  the  necessity  for  cau- 
tion and  concealment  \vere  all  very  disagreeable 
to  him.  He  was  overjoyed  when  he  heard  one 
brakeman  call  to  another :  "  "Well,  Dick,  you'll 
see  your  old  woman  in  three  hours  now." 

The  train  came  to  a  halt  before  entering  the 
railroad  yards  of  Helena,  and  Jimmy  (who 
seemed  to  consider  it  his  duty  to  look  after  John) 
was  alongside  in  a  minute.  "  We'll  leave  here, 
kid,"  he  said.  "  There's  p'lecemen  in  Helena, 
so  I  hear,  and  they  nab  a  man  climbing  from 
under  a  car." 

A  collection  of  wooden  houses  huddled  round 
the  station  and  "  yard  "  was  all  they  saw  at  first, 
and  John  at  least  was  disappointed,  for  he  had 
heard  much  of  the  magnificence  of  the  place. 
He  learned  soon  that  this  was  but  the  extreme 
suburb  and  that  the  town  itself  was  some  two 
miles  away. 

198 


A  CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

Jimmy  was  for  separating  there  and  then,  each 
to  forage  for  food  on  his  own  hook,  but  John, 
mindful  of  his  many  kindnesses,  insisted  that 
they  should  share  the  meal  which  he  procured. 
The  supply  of  ham  and  eggs  and  steak  that  they 
put  away  testified  not  so  much  to  the  excellence 
of  the  fare  as  to  the  keenness  of  their  appetites. 

This  important  business  finished,  they  in- 
quired about  the  town  itself  and  learned  that  it 
was  reached  by  a  trolley  car.  Here  was  a  brand- 
new  experience  right  away.  John  had  heard  of 
electric  cars,  but  had  never  seen  one,  and  he 
thought  it  a  wonderful  machine;  but  even  more 
wonderful  was  the  fact  that  for  a  ride  of  two 
miles  a  fare  of  only  five  cents  was  charged.  He 
wished  that  he  had  a  hundred  eyes  and  almost 
as  many  ears,  so  that  he  might  take  in  all  the 
strange  sights  that  greeted  him  at  every  turn. 
Jimmy,  with  transcontinental  experience,  ex- 
plained many  things  in  language  interlarded  with 
strange  hobo  slang.  When  the  yellow  trolley 
car  finally  reached  the  town,  the  boy  opened  his 
eyes  in  wonder — here  was  the  real  city. 

The  companions  walked  along  the  busy  street, 
which  to  John's  amazement  was  paved  with 
stone  blocks,  the  sidewalks  being  covered  with 
bricks  and  flags.  As  he  saw  the  crowds  of  people 
he  thought  there  must  be  some  sort  of  a  celebra- 
199 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

tion  going  on.  In  front  of  a  saloon  a'number  of 
men  were  gathered,  and  among  them  Jimmy 
recognized  some  friends.  John,  however,  was 
not  content  to  stand  and  listen  to  long  discussions 
as  to  the  best  routes  to  travel,  the  most  likely 
places  where  "  hand-outs  "  might  be  had,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  talk  that  tramps  indulge  in ;  so  he 
started  off  on  his  own  hook  on  a  tour  of  discovery. 
"  Don't  get  lost,  kid,"  Jimmy  shouted,  as  the  boy 
went  off. 

All  his  life  he  had  been  accustomed  to  almost 
unlimited  space,  to  nearly  perfect  quiet,  except 
the  noise  of  the  elements,  the  voices  of  wild 
things  and  of  the  few  human  beings.  All  at 
once  he  was  thrown  into  the  midst  of  a  bustling 
Western  city,  packed  solid  with  business  build- 
ings and  dwellings,  the  surface  of  the  earth  shod 
with  iron  and  stone,  the  very  sky  stained  with 
smoke,  and  the  air  filled  with  the  roar  of  traffic, 
the  whistle  of  locomotives,  the  clang  of  the  elec- 
tric-car bells,  and  the  shouts  of  street  hucksters. 
He  was  almost  stupefied  with  wonder.  Then 
natural  boyish  curiosity  took  possession  of  him, 
and  he  began  to  notice  things  separately  and  in 
detail.  He  walked  along  with  eyes,  ears,  and 
mouth  wide  open;  his  head  turning  constantly 
as  some  strange  object  caught  his  gaze.  The 
frequent  big  "  saloon  "  sign  did  not  surprise  him, 
200 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

nor  did  the  "  Licensed  Gambling  House  "  pla- 
card cause  him  to  wonder;  he  knew  them  of  yore, 
they  were  all  a  matter  of  course  to  a  Western  boy. 
But  when  he  came  to  a  building  six  or  seven  stor- 
ies high  he  stopped  short  in  the  human  tide,  like 
a  spile  in  a  rushing  stream,  and  stood  with  mouth 
agape  in  amazement.  The  plate-glass  windows 
and  the  gay  display  behind  them,  the  brilliant 
signs  and  elaborate  decorations  delighted  him. 

He  was  walking  along  slowly,  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  most  wonderful  "  outfit "  he  had 
ever  seen,  and  stood  still  in  his  tracks  to  take 
it  in.  It  was  a  closed  carriage  with  a  fine  big 
pair  of  horses  whose  trappings  were  decorated  in 
bright  silver.  His  fresh  young  eyes  took  these 
details  in  at  once,  but  what  caused  him  to  stare 
was  the  big  man  on  the  box.  Perfectly  motion- 
less, a  stony  stare  on  his  smoothly  shaven  face, 
John  wondered  if  he  was  made  of  wood.  His 
whip,  held  at  just  the  proper  angle  in  heavy  tan 
gloves,  white  trousers  painfully  tight,  high  top 
boots,  and  green  coat  shining  with  brass  buttons, 
the  whole  get-up  topped  by  a  big,  shining  silk 
hat.  For  several  minutes  he  watched  him,  but 
not  a  sign  of  life  did  he  betray.  Then  a  woman, 
richly  dressed,  came  out  of  a  nearby  store  and 
entered  the  carriage,  saying  as  she  did  so,  "  Drive 
home,  James."  The  dummy  made  a  motion 
201 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

with  his  hand  toward  his  hat,  flicked  the  whip 
over  the  horses'  flanks,  and  the  carriage  moved 
off. 

John's  awesome  gaze  gave  way  to  a  laugh: 
"  Why,  he  isn't  an  English  lord,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  he's  only  a  teamster,"  and  he  laughed 
again. 

A  boy  with  a'package  stopped  to  look  at  him. 
"  Whatcher  laughin'  at?  "  said  he. 

"  Didn't  you  see  that  outfit  ?  "  said  the  other, 
between  chuckles. 

"Mean  the  kerrige?"  John  nodded.  "That's 
Fleischman's  rig.  Never  seen  one  before?  " 

"  I've  seen  'em  in  pictures,  but  I  never  thought 
they  were  true,"  and  John  laughed  again.  "  I 
suppose  people  do  go  down  to  dinner  at  six 
o'clock  as  I've  read  they  do,"  he  said  at  last,  a 
puzzle  that  had  long  baffled  him  clearing  away. 

"  Sure.  Whatjer  think  they  did,  go  up  to 
dinner?  "  returned  the  other  boy  scornfully. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  see  how  they  could  go  down 
'less  they  ate  in  a  cellar,"  said  John  in  explana- 
tion. "  Who  ever  heard  of  people  eating  dinner 
at  night,  anyway? " 

From  this  talk  and  the  big  white  felt  hat  that 

he  wore,  the  boy  with  the  parcel  gathered  that  the 

other  was  a  stranger  to  the  town  and  town  ways. 

He  felt  quite  superior  and  determined  to  make 

202 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

the  most  of  it.  "  Come  on  down  the  street  with 
me,"  he  said,  and  John  followed,  elbowing  his 
way  among  the  people  as  he  saw  the  other  boy 
do.  They  went  along  together,  Charley  Braton 
(John  soon  learned  his  name)  pointing  out  the 
principal  buildings,  grandiloquently.  Charley, 
who  was  an  errand  boy  in  a  dry-goods  store, 
reached  his  destination  and  invited  his  new- 
found friend  to  come  up,  so  both  stepped  into  the 
hallway  and  then  through  an  iron  doorway  into 
a  sort  of  cage,  where  several  other  people  were 
already  standing.  John  wondered  what  it  was 
all  about,  and  was  just  framing  a  question  when 
a  man  slammed  the  gate  and  grasped  a  wire  rope 
that  ran  through  floor  and  ceiling  of  the  cage. 
Of  a  sudden  the  floor  began  to  rise,  not  smoothly, 
but  with  a  jerk  that  drove  the  boy's  heels  into  the 
floor.  John's  breath  caught  and  he  clutched 
Charley's  arm.  "  Seven,"  called  out  the  latter, 
and  the  car  stopped  with  a  jar. 

"  Elevator?  "  inquired  John. 

"  Yep.  'Fraid?  "  questioned  the  other  with  a 
grin. 

"!N"ah.  Little  bit  surprised  though;  never 
rode  on  one  before." 

"  Lots  of  people  get  scared,  though,"  said 
Charley,  and  began  a  long  account  of  how  an 
old  ranchman  and  Indian  fighter  lost  his  nerve 
203 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

completely  during  his  first  elevator  ride,  and 
finally  pulled  his  pistol  on  the  elevator  man  to 
make  him  "  stop  the  thing." 

Charley's  errand  done,  they  entered  the  ele- 
vator again,  which  descended  so  suddenly  that 
John  felt  as  if  the  bottom  had  dropped  out  of  his 
stomach.  Both  stairs  and  elevators  were  new 
to  our  country  boy,  and  he  concluded  that  he  did 
not  care  for  either,  but  he  was  far  too  proud  to 
show  any  trepidation  before  his  new  acquaint- 
ance. 

The  boys  separated,  Charley  returning  to  the 
store  and  John  to  the  group  of  tramps  at  the 
saloon.  It  was  not  an  attractive  circle  round 
the  beer  keg  that  the  boy  joined,  and  even  he 
realized  that  they  were  more  dirty  and  shiftless 
than  any  men  he  had  known.  But  one  at  least 
of  them  had  been  kind  to  him,  and  he  was 
grateful. 

"Well,  kid,  wha'd'ye  see?"  shouted  Jimmy 
as  he  drew  near. 

John  told  the  story  with  gusto  of  all  the  won- 
ders he  had  seen,  and  especially  his  view  of  the 
"  carriage  teamster." 

"  That's  nothin',"  said  one  man.  "  You  see 
them  on  every  corner  in  N'York."  Immediately 
there  arose  an  animated  discussion  as  to  the  pos- 
sessions of  this  or  that  millionaire,  and  there  was 
204 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 


not  one  of  the  tramps  who  did  not  know  some 
one  in  the  household  of  a  plutocrat.  The  talk 
grew  apace,  and  each  narrator  put  forth  all  his 
available  knowledge  of  the  traits  and  habits  of 
millionaires.  All  referred  familiarly  to  indi- 
viduals of  seven-figure  fame  as  "  Tom "  or 
"  Joe  "  or  "  George." 

John  and  Jimmy  meanwhile  withdrew  un- 
noticed, and  the  latter  evidently  had  some  defi- 
nite destination  in  view,  for  he  started  off  at  a 
brisk  pace  along  the  street,  commanding  the  boy 
to  come  on.  John  did  so  without  question,  and 
soon  they  reached  an  office  building,  which 
Jimmy  entered.  They  finally  stopped  before  a 
door  bearing  the  sign  "  Doctor  Hamilton,"  and  at 
this  the  tramp  knocked.  A  boy  opened  the  door 
and  ushered  in  the  two  rough-looking  specimens. 
"  Doctor  in?  "  asked  Jimmy,  hat  in  hand.  The 
doctor,  a  mild  old  gentleman,  approached,  and 
John's  protector  spoke  up :  "  Doctor,  beg  yer 
pardin  for  comin'  in,  but  this  here  kid  has  a 
pretty  bad  hand,"  and  he  held  up  the  boy's 
swollen  member.  "  There  ain't  nobody  to  look 
after  it  and  it  needs  a  good  washin'  at  least." 

"  Let  me  see  it,"  and  the  doctor  unwound  the 

dirty  rags,  handling  the  wounded  hand  ever  so 

tenderly.     It  was  treatment  to  which  the  boy 

was  entirely  unaccustomed,  and  he  did  not  know 

205 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

just  what  to  make  of  it.  Jimmy  warned  the 
physician  that  neither  had  any  money,  but  never- 
theless he  proceeded  to  attend  to  the  sore  hand, 
washing  it  first,  then  dressing  it  and  bandaging 
the  whole  in  clean  white  linen.  John  was  or- 
dered to  come  next  day.  And  so,  with  a  kindly 
smile  on  his  benevolent  face,  he  bade  them  good 
day. 

The  grateful  patient  tried  hard  to  thank  the 
doctor  and  harder  to  thank  Jimmy,  but  he  did 
not  succeed  very  well  with  either. 

"  Now,  kid,  you've  got  to  sleep  in  a  bed  till 
that  hand  heals  up,"  said  the  latter,  when  John 
tried  to  voice  his  gratitude.  "  I've  got  a  stable 
full  of  hay  that  I'm  goin'  to  sleep  in;  but  you 
hunt  up  a  lodgin'  house  and  save  your  money  all 
you  can." 

John  followed  the  advice  at  once  and  found 
a  place  where  he  could  sleep  in  a  bed  for  twenty- 
five  cents  a  night. 

A  week  passed,  Jimmy  had  taken  to  the  road 
again,  and  the  boy  was  left  alone  for  the  first 
time  in  a  great  town.  He  had  been  lonely  be- 
fore, but  it  was  as  nothing  compared  to  the  feel- 
ing that  now  possessed  him.  To  be  surrounded 
with  people,  all  of  whom  were  strangers,  seemed 
to  him  more  depressing  than  to  be  absolutely 
alone  with  rugged  nature. 
206 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 


By  this  time  John's  hand  had  nearly  healed, 
but  his  money  had  about  given  out,  and  he  was 
looking  for  work.  It  wasn't  hard  for  a  man  in 
those  booming  days  to  find  work,  but  the  boy  was 
in  the  awkward  stage  of  growth  when  he  was  too 
small  for  a  man's  work  and  too  big  for  a  boy's — 
though  he  had  a  full-grown  appetite  and  clothes 
to  pay  for. 

He  hunted  diligently  for  a  job;  day  after  day 
he  tramped  the  streets  in  search  of  one ;  he  looked 
into  thousands  of  faces  for  one  he  knew.  He 
asked  continually  for  work,  and  at  last,  after  a 
particularly  trying  day,  heard  of  a  restaurant 
where  a  dish-washer  was  wanted.  He  went  there 
at  once,  but  was  told  that  the  boss  would  not  be 
there  till  evening;  later  he  called  again  and  was 
told  that  it  was  still  too  early.  The  restaurant 
was  set  back  of  a  saloon,  which  also  bore  the  le- 
gend, "  Licensed  Gambling  House."  Instead  of 
going  away  to  return  again,  John  determined  to 
wait.  He  loitered  around  the  bar-room,  sick  at 
heart.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  place  to  wait  in;  it 
had  no  attractions  for  the  boy,  accustomed  as  he 
was  to  open-air  life.  Several  tables  were  scat- 
tered about,  and  at  these  sat  the  gamblers,  their 
faces  stony  and  expressionless,  perfectly  calm, 
no  matter  how  luck  turned — the  result  of  long 
and  severe  discipline.  It  seemed  as  if  "  the  boss  " 
207 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

would  never  come,  and  John  was  about  to  give 
up  when  he  chanced  to  look  at  a  table  in  a  far 
corner  and  saw,  he  thought,  a  familiar  face.  He 
was  all  alertness  in  an  instant,  and  went  over  to 
make  sure.  Yes,  it  was  Tom  Malloy,  John's  in- 
structor in  "  the  noble  art  of  self-defence."  How 
glad  he  was  to  see  him !  Yet  he  must  not  inter- 
rupt, for  Tom  was  playing  cards  for  a  consider- 
able stake.  He  must  wait  and  watch  his  chance 
to  speak.  Tom  won  steadily,  and  soon  the  boy 
became  so  absorbed  in  the  game  that  he  forgot 
all  about  the  dish-washing;  a  friend  was  involved, 
so  he  "  took  sides  "  at  once.  One  by  one  Mal- 
loy's  opponents  dropped  out,  remarking  that  it- 
was  "  Malloy's  night,"  till  he  alone  remained  at 
the  table.  Raking  the  chips  into  his  hat  he  went 
over  to  the  bar  to  turn  them  into  the  money  they 
represented;  John  followed,  and  when  the  cur- 
rency was  being  counted  out  he  approached: 

"Hello,  Tom,"  he  said. 

"  Why,  hello,  kid,"  answered  the  man  care- 
lessly. 

"  Don't  you  know  me?  "  said  John,  rather  hurt 
at  this  reception.  "  I'm  John  Worth ;  you 
worked  for  my  father  down  in  Dakota." 

"  The  deuce  you  say !  You  little  John  Worth  ? 
Not  so  little,  either,"  said  Tom  in  a  breath. 
"Where'dyer  come  from?  What  you  doin' 
208 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

round  a  gamblin'  house?  It's  no  place  for 
you." 

John  remembered  his  mission  and  explained. 

"Job?  Well,  I'm  just  the  man  to  get  you  one," 
said  Tom  cordially.  He  went  back  to  the  restau- 
rant door  and  called  a  waiter  to  him.  "  Tell 
Albert  I  want  to  see  him,"  he  ordered.  Albert, 
the  restaurant  keeper,  soon  appeared.  "  I  hear 
you  want  a  man,"  Malloy  began.  "  Here's  a  boy 
who's  as  good  as  any  man  and  an  old  friend  of 
mine;  if  you've  got  a  good  job,  give  it  to  him." 

Malloy  was  a  leading  character  among  the 
gamblers  of  the  town;  he  won  freely  and  spent 
freely,  and  was  therefore  to  be  propitiated.  Al- 
bert graciously  admitted  that  he  had  a  job  and 
that  John  might  have  it;  he  even  went  so  far  as 
to  say  that  "  sure  he  would  make  a  place  for  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Malloy 's."  So  it  was  arranged 
that  the  boy  was  to  begin  work  the  next  day. 

The  two  passed  out  together,  and  Tom  noticed 
the  condition  of  the  boy's  clothes;  they  were 
dusty,  torn  in  many  places,  and  generally  dis- 
reputable-looking. 

"  Those  all  the  clothes  you  have?  " 

John  nodded. 

"  Well,  I'll  see  if  I  can't  get  you  fixed  up  to- 
morrow." 

True  to  his  word,  John's  friend  in  need  took 
14  209 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

him  to  a  clothing  store  and  saw  to  it  that  he  was 
supplied  with  a  complete  outfit. 

John  was  togged  out  as  he  had  never  been  be- 
fore in  all  his  life;  he  looked  at  himself  in  the 
glass,  feeling  awkward  and  clumsy  and  wishing 
his  face  wasn't  so  big  and  red  under  the  small 
derby  hat.  He  couldn't  get  used  to  that  hat,  so 
he  slyly  rolled  up  his  big,  old  felt  one  and  tucked 
it  under  his  arm  when  they  left  the  store.  Be- 
fore Malloy  parted  from  him  he  made  him  prom- 
ise that  he  would  call  on  him  if  he  had  any 
trouble  or  did  not  get  along  well  with  Albert. 

John  began  work  at  once.  He  yanked  off 
his  new  coat,  rolled  up  his  shirt  sleeves,  and 
started  in  washing  dishes  as  if  his  life  depended 
on  it.  It  was  a  way  he  had  when  anything  had 
to  be  accomplished. 

For  several  months  the  boy  stuck  to  his  job, 
working  steadily  and  well.  The  town,  or  at 
least  the  meaner  part  of  it,  became  very  familiar 
to  him.  Schools,  churches,  concerts,  and  society 
events  abounded,  but  they  might  have  been  in 
another  planet  so  far  as  John  was  concerned. 
The  saloon,  the  "  Licensed  Gambling  House," 
the  cheap  theatre,  and  the  back  streets  were  his 
haunts.  The  rough  teamsters,  miners,  and 
gamblers  were  his  associates.  Tom  Malloy  was 
his  hero;  the  man's  generosity  and  kindly  spirit 
210 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

won  the  boy's  heart,  but  the  former  kept  a  strict 
watch  over  him  for  all  that,  and  it  is  doubtful  if 
John  could  have  got  into  very  bad  habits  if  he 
had  desired.  The  boy  soon  learned  to  know  all 
the  celebrities  of  the  under-world  in  which  he 
lived :  Peter  Aston,  or  Poker  Pete,  "  handy  with 
his  gun  "  ;  Charley,  or  Snoozer,  Johnson,  also 
known  as  "  Gain,"  who  played  a  "  close,  hard 
game  "  ;  Tom  Malloy,  with  the  widespread  repu- 
tation of  being  a  man  "  hard  to  lick." 

The  class  John  associated  with  was  a  restless 
lot,  seldom  staying  long  in  one  place,  and  soon 
the  same  spirit  infected  him.  He  longed  for  the 
open  air  and  open  country;  the  interminable 
walls  of  the  city  oppressed  him.  It  was  with 
great  interest  therefore  that  he  listened  to  a 
chance  acquaintance  who  told  of  a  new  job  on 
railroad  construction  he  had  secured.  John 
asked  several  questions  and  learned  that  many 
men  were  needed,  and  that  there  might  be  a 
chance  for  him. 

"  Where's  the  contractor  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly, 
his  mind  made  up.  "  I'm  goin'  to  ask  him  for  a 
job." 

"  I  met  him  half  an  hour  ago  at  the  '  Bucket 
of  Blood,'  "  answered  his  new  friend.  "  I'll 
go  along  with  you;  perhaps  we'll  find  him 
there." 

211 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

They  soon  reached  the  saloon  with  the  san- 
guinary name,  and  luckily  found  the  contractor. 
John  stated  his  errand  and  stood  while  the  man 
looked  him  over.  "  Perhaps  you  might  work  in 
the  cook  house,"  he  said  at  length.  "  You're  too 
light  to  drive  a  scraper." 

"  Yes,  I  could  do  that,  but  I  don't  want  to.  I 
want  out-of-door  work.  Have  you  got  a  horse- 
wrangler  yet?  " 

As  luck  would  have  it,  the  job  John  wanted 
was  not  given  out,  and,  after  telling  of  his  ex- 
perience, he  was  appointed  night  horse-wrangler. 

To  get  a  saddle  and  riding  outfit  was  the  next 
thing  necessary,  and  this  Tom  Malloy  lent  him 
from  the  store  of  such  things  he  had  won  at 
cards. 

John  found  that  to  part  from  the  man  who  had 
befriended  him  in  his  need  was  the  only  really 
trying  thing  in  connection  with  leaving  Helena. 
Squalid  as  were  most  of  his  associations  with  the 
place,  he  was  really  sorry  to  go  away  from  Tom 
Malloy.  The  thought  of  being  once  more  in  the 
saddle,  however,  delighted  him,  and  it  was  with 
a  preponderance  of  joy  rather  than  sorrow,  there- 
fore, that  he  clambered  early  one  morning  into 
the  rough  wagon  that  was  to  convey  his  party  to 
the  scene  of  operations  and  saw  the  city  disappear 
in  the  distance. 

212 


A    CHANGE   OF  SCENE. 

Soon  he  would  be  astride  of  a  herse,  out  in  the 
open.  ]N"o  walls  to  encompass  him,  no  roofs  to 
shut  out  the  sky — what  a  glorious  and  inspiring 
thought  it  was ! 


213 


CHAPTEK    XIII. 

HEEDING    HORSES   AND    PANNING   GOLD. 

"  Seems  to  me/'  said  John  to  his  new  partner, 
Frank  Bridges,  "  that  this  is  a  pretty  tough  gang. 
Half  of  'em  drunk,  and  the  rest  of  'em  ready  to 
take  your  head  off  if  you  speak  to  'em." 

"  Oh,  well,"  answered  the  other,  "  some  of 
them  got  out  of  money  quicker  than  others  and  so 
got  out  of  liquor  quicker.  It's  kinder  hard  to  go 
back  to  work  in  the  wilds  after  loafing  round  the 
town  a  good  while.  You'll  find  that  they're  not 
such  a  bad  lot  when  they're  sober  and  get  to 
workin'." 

The  two  were  sitting  on  one  of  the  scrapers 
that  trundled  behind  the  wagons — a  vehicle 
which,  though  not  exactly  comfortable,  was  ex- 
clusive— they  had  it  entirely  to  themselves.  All 
day  long  they  had  travelled  thus,  except  at  dinner 
time,  when  a  short  halt  was  made.  John  said  he 
would  almost  as  lief  ride  a  brake  beam  as  a 
"  break-back,"  for  so  he  had  christened  this  jolt- 
ing equipage. 

214 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

Long  after  dark  they  saw  the  white  tents  of  the 
camp  loom  up,  and  in  a  minute  after  their  arrival 
it  was  the  scene  of  bustling  activity.  Orders 
were  bawled,  greetings  were  shouted,  the  team- 
sters yelled  and  swore  at  their  horses.  But  above 
the  din  rose  the  voice  of  Old  Murphy,  the  con- 
tractor :  "  Here,  boys,  rustle  round  and  get  these 
horses  out  of  the  harness.  Worth,  saddle  up 
and  take  these  horses  to  the  other  bunch  and 
watch  'em  all  till  morning."  Then,  turning  to 
his  foreman:  "Ricks,  get  this  fellow  a  saddle 
horse." 

"  The  others  are  tied  up  yet,  Mr.  Murphy," 
the  man  ventured. 

"  What!  Not  out  yet?  "  roared  the  boss.  A 
regular  tirade  followed,  and  John  realized  that 
he  must  do  his  work  well  to  escape  a  tongue-lash- 
ing. He  was  rather  staggered  at  the  order  to 
saddle  up  and  get  out  at  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
with  a  lot  of  strange  horses,  in  a  country  he  did 
not  know. 

"  Say,  Frank,"  he  said  to  his  friend,  who  was 
busy  unloading  the  rolled-up  "  beds  "  or  bed- 
ding, "  this  is  no  joke;  I  don't  want  to  lose  a  lot 
of  horses  and  maybe  kill  myself  in  the  bargain — • 
it's  going  it  blind  with  a  vengeance." 

"  You'd  better  make  a  stab  at  it,  anyhow,"  he 
was  advised.  "  The  old  man's  raging,  and  you 
215 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

might  lose  your  job  if  you  showed  the  white 
feather." 

"  You  ready  yet,  Worth?  "  It  was  Murphy's 
voice,  and  John  jumped  at  the  sound  of  it. 

"  Give  me  a  hand,  Frank,  will  you.  Bring 
the  blasted  old  cayuse  over  here  while  I  get  the 
saddle  ready.  I'll  do  it  or  bust,"  and  John 
suited  the  action  to  the  word. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  boy  was  in  the  saddle 
and  following  the  already  straggling  bunch  of 
horses. 

"  Keep  your  eye  open  for  prospect  holes," 
shouted  Frank. 

"  You  want  to  watch  those  horses  like  thun- 
der, Worth,"  called  out  Murphy,  who  seemed  to 
be  everywhere  at  once.  "  They're  strangers  to 
each  other,  and  they'll  split  up  and  scatter  to  the 
four  winds  if  you  don't  watch  'em.  Some's  from 
Oregon  and  some's  from  Utah,  and  if  they  get 
separated  it'll  cost  mor'n  they're  worth  to  get 
'em  back  again.  You've  got  fifty-six  head — 
keep  counting  'em."  The  "  old  man  "  appar- 
ently did  not  want  him  to  get  beyond  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  but  kept  following  and  shouting  in- 
structions. Perhaps  he  realized  that  he  was  giving 
the  boy  a  trying,  and  possibly  dangerous,  task. 

"  All  right,"  shouted  John  cheerfully,  but  at 
heart  he  was  not  so  confident. 
216 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

It  was  long  after  ten  and  quite  dark ;  the  horses 
in  front  were  mere  shadows  and  could  only  be 
distinctly  made  out  by  the  tramp  of  their  hoofs. 
To  count  them  exactly  was  almost  impossible, 
for  it  was  hard  to  tell  where  one  horse  began  and 
another  ended.  The  old  beast  John  was  riding, 
however,  knew  his  business,  and  it  was  well  he 
did,  for  it  was  necessary  to  trust  almost  entirely 
to  his  acuteness  and  keen  sense  of  smell.  Horses 
and  herder  splashed  across  the  creek  and  pushed 
their  way  through  the  brush  and  up  the  hill 
opposite. 

The  boy  realized  that  his  work  was  cut  out  for 
him,  and  he  determined  he  would  see  the  thing 
through.  The  hills  and  gulches  round  about 
were  new  to  him.  There  might  be  precipices, 
quicksand  bottoms,  bogs,  and,  worst  of  all,  the 
night-rider's  menace,  old  prospect  holes.  These 
were  short,  narrow,  and  often  deep  ditches  dug 
by  miners  in  their  search  for  the  precious  metal. 
Besides  all  this,  he  was  on  a  horse  he  had  never 
thrown  a  leg  over  before  and  of  whose  disposition 
and  capabilities  he  knew  nothing. 

"If  I  only  had  Baldy!  "  he  thought  as  the 
cayuse  he  was  riding  plunged  into  the  brush  after 
the  retreating  bunch. 

Immediately  his  trouble  began.  The  old 
horses,  old  companions,  jealous  of  the  new-com- 
217 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

ers,  tried  to  elude  them,  and  the  latter  were  none 
too  anxious  for  their  company.  John  could  only 
gallop  forward  and  back  and  all  around,  re- 
straining this  scattering  tendency  as  best  he 
could,  and  depending  on  his  mount's  sagacity  to 
avoid  holes  and  obstructions.  A  merry  dance 
his  charges  led  him — merry  in  the  lively  sense 
only — up  and  down,  in  and  out,  over  what  kind 
of  country  he  could  only  guess.  All  he  could 
see  of  his  troublesome  charges  was  a  shadowy 
back  now  and  then,  or  a  high-thrown  head  sil- 
houetted against  a  lighter  patch  of  sky  or  a  bank 
of  sand. 

He  judged  himself  to  be  two  miles  from  camp 
before  the  animals  seemed  to  think  of  stopping 
to  feed.  Even  then  they  were  determined  to 
separate,  and  it  taxed  John's  vigilance  to  the  ut- 
most to  keep  them  together.  His  horse  began  to 
tire,  it  was  many  hours  before  daylight,  and 
something  had  to  be  done — at  once.  An  old 
gray  mare  carried  a  bell  on  her  neck  and  John 
noticed  that  the  rest  of  the  bunch  followed  her 
blindly.  If  he  could  catch  and  tie  her  up  the 
others  might  be  more  inclined  to  stay  in  one  spot. 
How  to  do  this  was  the  question.  She  was  too 
wily  to  be  caught  by  hand,  and  if  in  throwing  the 
rope  the  loop  missed,  she  would  scatter  the  entire 
herd  in  a  minute.  For  a  while  he  gave  up  the 
218 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

plan,  but  it  g'rew  more  and  more  difficult  for  his 
weary  horse  to  keep  up  the  continued  darting  to 
and  fro. 

At  last  he  decided  to  make  the  trial — it  was 
the  last  resort  and  the  cast  must  be  successful. 
He  made  ready  his  lariat,  holding  a  coil  in  his  left 
hand  and  the  wide  loop  in  his  right,  and  waited 
an  instant  for  a  good  opportunity.  The  gray 
mare  stood  out  more  distinctly  than  the  other 
horses  and  made  a  better  mark,  but  at  best  it 
would  be  a  difficult  throw.  For  several  seconds 
John  sat  still  in  his  saddle,  the  noose  circling 
slowly  round  his  head,  his  arm  still,  only  the 
supple  wrist  bending.  The  old  mare  was  watch- 
ing him.  The  rope  now  began  to  whistle  as  its 
speed  increased.  Suddenly  the  belled  mare 
snorted  and  started  off  on  a  run;  John  shut  his 
teeth  hard,  threw  at  what  looked  like  a  neck,  took 
a  couple  of  turns  round  the  horn  of  the  saddle 
with  the  slack  rope,  then  waited. 

Almost  at  once  the  line  tightened.  A  gentle 
pressure  was  put  on  the  bridle  rein,  and  the 
pony's  weight  checked  the  mare  in  her  flight. 
The  throw  was  a  good  one,  and  the  mare  was 
caught.  The  shock  was  great,  and  John's  pony 
was  green  at  this  sort  of  business  and  the  tight- 
ening cinches  made  him  jump  in  lively  fashion. 
The  mare  too  had  not  learned  that  it  is  useless 
219 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

to  "  run  against  a  rope/'  and  for  a  while  kept 
John  and  his  mount  busy;  but  the  increasing 
tightness  of  the  slip  noose  round  her  neck  soon 
quieted  her  and  enabled  the  boy  to  tie  her  up 
short  to  a  tree. 

The  remedy  proved  to  be  effective;  soon  all 
the  horses  were  feeding  quietly  round  the  tied 
leader. 

John  congratulated  himself  on  his  success  and 
prepared  to  take  a  much-needed  rest,  but  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  sound  of  another  bell  far  up  the 
gulch.  Evidently  there  were  other  horses  feed- 
ing near,  and  it  was  essential  to  keep  them  sepa- 
rated; so  he  trotted  to  a  point  between  the  herd 
and  the  place  from  which  the  ringing  came. 
Again  he  dismounted  from  his  sweating  pony 
and  sat  down  to  rest,  when,  chancing  to  glance 
over  his  shoulder,  he  saw  a  small  fire  blazing  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away.  "  No  rest  for  the 
weary,"  he  grunted  resignedly,  mounted  once 
more  and  started  out  to  investigate.  As  he  rode 
slowly  nearer  he  made  out  a  man  sitting  cross- 
legged  by  the  fire,  his  face  in  strong  relief,  his 
back  almost  lost  in  shadow.  Behind  stood  a 
saddled  horse,  barely  showing  in  the  gloom. 

John  rode  up,  slapping  his  chaps  with  his  quirt 
to  let  the  stranger  know  that  he  was  a  horseman 
also  and  giving  fair  warning  of  his  approach. 
220 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

Otherwise  he  might  be  taken  for  a  horse  thief 
and  shot  on  sight. 

The  stranger  rose  quickly  and  retreated  into 
the  shadow.  John  did  not  like  this.  "  Hullo, 
pardner!  "  he  called,  drawing  nearer. 

"Hullo,  stranger,"  replied  the  other.  "Are 
you  lost?  " 

"  No.  I'm  Murphy's  night  herder.  Pretty 
dark  night,  isn't  it?  " 

The  man  returned  to  the  circle  of  firelight, 
his  suspicions  allayed,  thus  evidencing  his  own 
honesty.  John  dismounted  and  came  up  to 
him,  glad  to  have  some  one  to  talk  and  listen 
to. 

"  You  night-herdin'  too?  I  heard  a  bell  ring- 
ing up  the  gulch  and  I  guessed  there  was  another 
bunch  of  horses  up  there." 

"  Yep.  I've  got  Brady's  horses  up  there," 
and  he  nodded  in  the  direction  of  a  dimly  visible 
lot.  John  described  the  difficulties  he  had  ex- 
perienced and  asked  if  there  were  many  prospect 
holes  about. 

"  Yes,  lots  of  'em,"  answered  the  Brady  man. 
"  An'  they're  deep  too.  I  was  ridin'  along  with 
my  bunch  last  spring,  spurrin'  my  horse  to  get 
ahead  of  the  critters,  when  he  went  plump  into 
a  blamed  hole — and  he's  there  yet.  I  only  got 
away  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth." 
221 


• 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

"  I  guess  I'm  in  great  luck  to  get  through  this 
safe,"  said  John.  "  I  was  never  on  this  range 
till  after  dark  to-night." 

"  Horses  all  there  ?  "  inquired  the  other,  nod- 
ding towards  John's  charges. 

"  Sure.     But  I  guess  I'd  better  count  'em." 

"  My  horses  are  like  a  lot  of  sheep.  I'll  go 
along  with  you." 

The  two  rounded  the  animals  together  again 
and  counted  them  as  well  as  the  darkness  would 
allow.  They  agreed  that  they  numbered  fifty- 
six  and  John  breathed  easier. 

And  so  the  first  night  passed,  the  two  herders 
chatting  pleasantly  till  dawn,  when  they  parted, 
agreeing  to  meet  some  other  night. 

A  little  before  daybreak  John  rounded  up  his 
bunch  and  began  driving  them  in  the  direction 
of  the  camp.  When  daylight  came  he  counted 
them  again  and  to  his  satisfaction  found  them 
all  there.  In  spite  of  the  tiresome  trip  of  the 
day  before,  the  hard  riding  of  the  preceding 
evening,  and  the  long  night's  vigil,  he  felt  as  gay 
as  the  lark  that  soared  overhead  pouring  out  a 
song  entirely  out  of  proportion  in  volume  to  its 
size.  He  hummed  blithely  an  Indian  war  chant, 
made  over  for  the  occasion,  and  breathed  in  the 
early  morning  fragrance  with  a  feeling  of  exhila- 
ration that  made  him  forget  for  the  time  that  he 
222 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

had  gone  to  work  the  night  before  supperless  and 
had  not  put  his  teeth  into  anything  edible  since. 

The  sight  of  the  cook  preparing  breakfast 
speedily  reminded  him  that  he  had  an  "  aching 
void,"  which  seemed  to  extend  to  his  very  heels. 

The  boss's  query,  "  Got  'em  all,  Worth?  "  was 
answered,  with  pardonable  pride,  in  the  affirma- 
tive. For  John  felt  that  he  had  done  good  work. 

The  breakfast  was  soon  over,  and  what  a  break- 
fast! Baked  beans,  bacon,  bread,  and  coffee, 
a  feast  fit  for  the  gods,  John  thought,  as  he  rolled 
into  the  bed  that  Frank  had  previously  showed 
him.  He  was  sound  asleep  in  a  minute  and  en- 
tirely unconscious  of  the  bustle  and  noise  a^bout 
him.  Murphy  was  giving  orders  in  stentorian 
tones  that  could  be  heard  half  a  mile  away;  the 
unwilling  horses  were  being  harnessed  to  the  big 
scoop-like  scrapers  and  to  the  Avagons  containing 
tools;  the  men  were  divided  into  gangs,  the  new 
arrivals,  cross,  surly,  and  suffering  from  aching 
heads,  starting  with  irritating  slowness.  Soon 
all  hands  were  hard  at  work,  "  moving  hills  to 
fill  up  hollows,"  making  a  level  trail  for  the  iron 
horse. 

At  this  point  there  was  much  digging  and 

scraping  to  be  done,  a  deep  cut  and  a  long  "  fill  " 

on  the  other  side.    At  noon  the  men  trooped  back 

to  dinner — silent  until  their  hunger  was  satisfied, 

223 


. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

then  noisy  and  boisterous — but  John  slept  peace- 
fully through  it  all. 

About  four  o'clock  he  woke  up  and  gazed 
about  him  wonderingly.  He  was  lying  in  a  tent, 
through  the  open  flap  of  which  the  sunlight 
streamed. 

A  dip  in  the  stream  that  ran  close  by  refreshed 
him  greatly  and  dispelled  the  sleepy,  heavy  feel- 
ing that  had  possessed  him.  The  creek  was  clear 
and  cool,  and  John  lingered  on  its  banks  half 
clothed,  digging  in  the  sand  and  mud  with  his 
bare  feet  and  hands.  As  he  was  dabbling  in  the 
moist  earth,  he  came  across  some  sand  that  had 
black  streaks  in  it.  His  curiosity  was  aroused, 
for  he  had  not  seen  the  like  before,  and  he  gath- 
ered some  in  his  hat,  intending  to  ask  what  it  was. 

The  cook  was  busy  washing  beans  for  supper, 
so  John  sat  down  on  a  log  near  by  and  watched 
him  idly.  His  thoughts  wandered  back  to  the 
coal  camp,  and  he  wondered  about  Ben  and 
Baldy;  he  longed  for  both,  and  for  the  moment 


HERDING  HOUSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

was  tempted  to  go  home  and  see  them;  then  he 
realized  that  he  had  chosen  the  path  he  was  now 
travelling  for  himself  and  felt  that  he  must  fol- 
low it  out  to  the  end.    He  thought  of  the  journey 
to  Helena,  of  Jimmy  the  hobo,  and  of  the  life 
he  had  just  left.     His  brown  study  was  inter-        ~"~ 
rupted  with  a  jolt.     "  What's  that  you've  got  in     _x  ^       ^ 
your  hat?  "     It  was  the  cook,  speaking  rather    ;£/ 
excitedly.  •>•"  I/ 

*  / 

"  Oh,  that  ?     That's  some  sand  and  gravel  Ir  /  J/ 

picked  out  down  the  creek;  brought  it  up  to  ask  v--^ 

what  it  is." 

"  Well,  it  looks  to  me  like  gold."  This  im- 
pressively. 

"  But  it's  black,"  objected  John. 

"  Yes,  the  black  is  magnetic  iron  and  often 
holds  gold — maybe  there's  enough  to  pay.  Do 
you  know  how  to  work  "the  pan?  "  Cook  was 
evidently  interested. 

The  boy  professed  his  ignorance,  and  the  other 
volunteered  to  show  him. 

The  pan,  a  flat,  round,  shallow  tin  affair,  was 
taken  down  to  the  spot  indicated  by  John  and  the 
lesson  began.  A  little  gravel,  which  included 
some  of  the  black  sand,  was  scooped  up.  Then 
the  pan  was  taken  to  the  creek,  dipped  under, 
and  the  water  was  allowed  to  run  out  slowly. 
This  was  repeated  over  and  over,  and  each  time 
15  225 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

a  little  sand  and  gravel  was  washed  over  the  edge. 
At  last  only  the  black  sand,  being  heavier,  re- 
mained. This  the  cook  showed  triumphantly. 

"  Only  a  little  black  sand !  Where's  the 
gold?  "  inquired  John. 

"  It's  in  the  sand,  and  has  to  be  separated  from 
it  by  quicksilver,  which  absorbs  the  gold;  then 
you  can  throw  away  the  sand,"  explained  cook, 
who  had  put  away  the  residue  carefully  in  a 
bottle  and  was  dipping  up  more  gravel. 

"  But  how  do  you  take  the  gold  out  of  the 
quicksilver? "  The  boy  was  determined  to  get 
to  the  bottom  of  this  thing. 

"  Why,  you  can  put  it  in  the  sun  and  let  it 
evaporate,  leaving  the  gold,  or  you  can  send  it  to 
town  to  be  separated  and  run  the  risk  of  losing 
both  quicksilver  and  some  of  your  gold." 

John  tried  panning,  but  he  found  it  needed  a 
much  more  practised  hand  than  his;  he  spilled 
out  water,  gravel,  and  all,  or  else  he  didn't  ac- 
complish anything.  Cook's  teaching  was  care- 
ful, however,  and  before  long  his  pupil  was  able 
to  gather  enough  sand,  after  sleeping  and  before 
beginning  his  night's  work,  to  realize  fifty  or 
sixty  cents'  worth  of  gold  when  separated. 

Immediately  after  supper  John  had  to  saddle 
his  horse  and  drive  the  work  stock  out  to  feed. 
This  task  was  becoming  more  and  more  easy  as 
226 


HERDING  HORSES  AND  PANNING    GOLD. 

the  horses  learned  to  know  each  other.  He  met 
Curran,  Brady's  wrangler,  regularly  now,  and 
the  companionship  helped  to  while  away  the  long 
night  hours  very  pleasantly. 

Curran  was  of  medium  height,  stoop-shoul- 
dered, and  rather  bow-legged  from  long  contact 
with  a  horse's  rounded  body.  He  was  awkward 
and  stiff  when  afoot,  an  appearance  accentuated 
by  the  suit  of  canvas  and  leather  that  he  wore. 
In  the  saddle  he  was  another  being,  graceful, 
supple,  strong — seemingly  a  part  of  the  beast  he 
rode.  His  skin  was  tanned  and  seamed  by  long 
years  of  exposure  to  the  sun.  He  might  be  the 
very  hero  himself  of  a  song  he  sang  to  John  one 


night. 


BOW-LEGGED   IKE. 


Bow-legged  Ike  on  horseback  was  sent 

From  some  place,  straight  down  to  this  broad  continent. 

His  father  could  ride  and  his  mother  could,  too, 
They  straddled  the  whole  way  from  Kalamazoo. 

Born  on  the  plains,  when  he  first  sniffed  the  air 
He  cried  for  to  mount  on  the  spavined  gray  mare. 

And  when  he  got  big  and  could  hang  to  the  horn 
'Twas  the  happiest  day  since  the  time  he  was  born. 

He'd  stop  his  horse  loping  with  one  good,  strong  yank, 
He'd  rake  him  on  shoulder  and  rake  him  on  flank. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

He  was  only  sixteen  when  he  broke  "  Outlaw  Nell," 
The  horse  that  had  sent  nigh  a  score  men  to — well ! 

He  climbed  to  the  saddle  and  there  sat  still, 

While  she  bucked  him  all  day  with  no  sign  of  a  spill. 

Five  years  later  on  a  cayuse  struck  the  trail 
Whose  record  made  even  old  ' '  punchers  "  turn  pale. 

He  was  really  a  terror  ;  could  dance  on  his  ear, 
And  sling  a  man  farther  than  that  stump — to  here  ! 

A  man  heard  of  Ike  ;  grinned  and  bet  his  whole  pile 
His  sorrel  would  shake  him  before  one  could  smile. 

So  the  crowd  they  came  round  and  they  staked  all  they 

had, 
While  Ike,  sorter  innocent,  said  :  "Is  he  T>ad  f  " 

And  durin'  their  laugh — for  the  sorrel,  you  see, 
Had  eat  up  two  ropes  and  was  tryin'  for  me — 

Ike  patted  his  neck — "Nice  pony,"  says  he, 
And  was  into  the  saddle  as  quick  as  a  flea. 

That  sorrel  he  jumped  and  he  twisted  and  bucked, 
And  the  man  laughed,    expectin'  that  Ike   would  be 
chucked. 

But  soon  the  cayuse  was  fair  swimmin'  in  sweat 
While  Ike,  looking  bored,  rolled  a  neat  cigarette. 

And  then  from  range  to  range  he  hunted  a  cayuse 
That  could  even  in-ter-est  him,  but  it  wasn't  any  use. 

So  he  got  quite  melancholic,  wondering  why  such  an 

earth, 
Where  the  horses  "had  no  sperrits,"  should  have  given 

himself  birth. 

228 


CHAPTEE   XIV. 

A   MIGRATION. 

All  that  summer  John  tended  the  work  stock, 
keeping  them  together  on  good  feeding  ground 
during  the  short  night  and  driving  them  into 
camp  soon  after  daylight. 

Much  of  this  work  was  very  pleasant ;  the  two 
herders,  Curran  and  John,  met  regularly  and 
many  were  the  long  talks  and  interchanges  of 
experiences  they  enjoyed. 

The  rainless  summer  nights  were  cool  enough 
to  be  refreshing  and  yet  warm  enough  to  make 
the  time  spent  in  the  open  air  delightful.  But 
when  rain  came  all  this  was  changed.  The 
horses  became  nervous  and  restless  and  required 
constant  watchfulness  and  continual  riding,  re- 
gardless of  treacherous  foothold  and  hidden,  water- 
filled  prospect  holes.  The  long,  yellow  "slicker" 
or  oilskin  coat,  being  cut  deep  in  the  back  and 
hanging  over  the  rider's  legs  to  his  spurred  heels, 
served  but  poorly  to  keep  out  the  driving  rain, 
and  by  morning  he  was  fairly  soaked.  Arriving 
229 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

in  camp  with  his  dripping  charges,  he  would 
dismount  stiffly,  and  after  a  half-cold  breakfast 
crawl  into  a  damp  bed  under  an  oozing  tent. 

John,  however,  learned  to  take  things  as  they 
came,  good  or  ill,  gathering  valuable  experience 
from  right  and  left.  Curran  was  a  horseman  of 
long  standing,  and  gave  the  fast-maturing  boy 
a  great  many  points  that  served  him  in  good  stead 
later  in  life.  He  taught  him  how  to  detect  any 
uneasiness  in  the  stock  that  might  grow  into 
fright  and  start  a  stampede ;  how  to  check  this  by 
voice  and  by  constant  active  presence ;  and,  above 
all,  by  force  of  example  he  showed  that  only 
through  quick  thought  and  unhesitating  expo- 
sure of  himself  to  danger  could  harm  to  his 
charges  be  averted.  By  nature  courageous,  al- 
most to  recklessness,  John  learned  these  lessons 
unconsciously. 

And  so  the  summer  passed — herding  horses  at 
night,  sleeping  and  panning  gold  by  day.  By 
the  latter  operation  he  was  able  to  add,  on  an 
average,  fifty  cents  a  day  to  his  hardly  princely 
income  of  seven  dollars  a  week. 

As  the  warm  season  drew  to  a  close,  the  night 
wrangler's  work  became  more  of  a  hardship  and 
less  a  pleasure;  only  by  dint  of  constant  exercise 
and  a  roaring  fire  was  the  life  made  endurable. 
The  night's  work  over,  horse  and  rider  would 
230 


A  MIGRATION. 

come  in  stiff  with  cold  and  not  infrequently  wet 
as  well. 

"  Well,  kid,  the  outfit  breaks  camp  this  week," 
said  cook  to  John  one  cold,  wet  morning  in 
November  as  he  slid  off  his  patient  beast. 
"  Here's  your  coffee;  keep  it  out  of  the  wet." 

"  Can't  break  any  too  soon  for  me,"  said  John, 
sipping  the  steaming  beverage  and  clinging 
tightly  to  the  tin  cup  with  both  hands  for  the 
sake  of  the  warmth  it  contained. 

"  Must  be  pretty  tough  this  time  o'  year,"  said 
cook  sympathetically.  "  More  coffee  ?  " 

"  You  bet,"  answered  the  other.  "  I  couldn't 
stand  it  if  I  wasn't  all-fired  tough.  I'll  have  to 
be  tough  if  I  go  range-ridin'  this  winter." 

Curran  put  this  thought  into  his  head,  where 
it  had  been  growing  until  it  became  a  resolve. 

"  So  you're  goin'  range-ridin',  eh,  kid?  " 

John  nodded  and  asked  the  cook  where  he  was 
going. 

"  "Well,  I'll  tell  yer,"  he  said,  stopping  to  wipe 
his  hands  on  the  flour  bag  that  served  for  an 
apron,  "  I'm  goin'  straight  back  East  where  my 
folks  live;  soon's  I  get  back  to  town  I'm  goin'  to 
buy  a  railroad  ticket  East  and  go  right  off." 

"  Good  enough,"  said  John  confidently,  but 
rather  sceptical  at  heart,  for  he  knew  of  many 
men  whose  good  resolutions  melted  under  the 
231 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

direful  influence  of  the  first  glass  of  whiskey  that 
went  down  their  throats.  "  "Well,  I'm  off  to 
bed/'  he  concluded,  making  for  the  bed  that 
Frank  had  vacated  but  a  little  while  before.  He 
knew  he  needed  all  the  rest  he  could  get.  The 
following  morning,  as  he  came  near  the  collec- 
tion of  tents  with  the  horses,  he  heard  Murphy 
shouting:  "  Rustle  round  now,  boys;  get  the  cook 
outfit  loaded,  the  tents  down,  and  your  beds 
rolled  up — quick.  We'll  be  in  town  by  noon." 

The  work  was  taken  up  with  such  a  will  that 
John  barely  got  his  share  of  coffee,  bacon,  beans, 
and  bread  before  the  cook's  stores  were  stowed 
away  ready  for  travelling. 

It  was  a  very  different  crowd  that  now  set  out 
for  the  town,  and  yet  it  was  the  same  lot  of  men. 
Nine  months'  heavy,  open-air  work  had  dispelled 
weakness  and  brought  strength,  had  replaced  bad 
temper  with  cheerfulness,  and  had,  moreover, 
filled  pockets  with  Uncle  Sam's  good  coin. 

Frank  and  John,  his  chum,  again  sat  on  the 
scraper  that  trailed  behind  a  wagon,  not  now  for 
fear  of  contact  with  ill-tempered,  almost  desper- 
ate men,  but  for  the  sake  of  comparative  quiet 
and  to  escape  the  practical  jokes  that  none  in  the 
wagon  could  avoid. 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  "would  you  rather  wrestle 
dishes  in  Helena  or  wrangle  horses  in  the  open  ?  " 
232 


A  MIGRATION. 

"  I'd  rather  wrangle  than  wrestle,"  said  John, 
taking  the  cue  with  a  laugh,  "  weather  or  no;  and 
I'd  like  to  go  out  again  soon." 

On  reaching  town  the  men  parted  company, 
each  to  seek  the  pleasure  that  most  attracted  him. 
John  at  once  hunted  up  Tom  Malloy,  who 
was  still  prosperous  and  evidently  glad  to  see 
him. 

"  Well,  kid,  how  did  you  get  along?  "  he  said, 
in  his  old,  familiar,  kindly  w^ay.  The  boy  first 
paid  him  for  the  saddle  he  had  borrowed,  to 
which  he  had  become  accustomed  and  attached, 
and  then  told  in  detail"  of  his  experiences. 

"  Do  you  want  to  get  back  to  pot- wrestling?  " 
asked  Molloy  at  length. 

"  jSTo;  not  on  your  life!  "  and  John  told  him  of 
his  liking  for  work  in  the  open  and  his  distaste 
for  town  life. 

"  Eight  you  are,  kid,"  said  Tom  encourag- 
ingly, "  the  town's  no  place  for  you,  or  for  me, 
either,"  he  added  rather  sadly.  "  I'll  be  done  up 
some  day  " — a  prophecy  which  proved  but  too 
true. 

John  and  Frank  took  lodgings  together,  and 
for  a  time  did  nothing  but  travel  round  the  town, 
noting  the  changes  that  had  been  made  since  they 
had  been  away  and  taking  in  such  cheap  amuse- 
ment as  the  place  offered.  It  was  on  one  of  these 
233 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

jaunts  round  the  streets  that  John  met  his  friend 
the  cook,  blear-eyed,  slouchy,  and  dirty,  the  bold 
mustache  he  was  usually  so  proud  of  drooping 
dismally. 

"  Why,  cook,  I  thought  you  were  in  the  East 
by  this  time,"  said  the  ex-wrangler,  remember- 
ing the  solemn  resolution  confided  to  him  a  few 
days  before. 

"  No,  I  just  stopped  for  one  drink  and  that 
settled  it,"  confessed  the  other.  "  Haven't  a 
quarter  to  buy  a  dinner  with  now." 

John  took  him  to  a  restaurant  and  fed  him. 

This  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  encounters  with 
ex-campmates.  The  first  feeling  was  one  of 
wonder  and  disgust  that  the  demon  of  drink  could 
make  such  short  work  of  a  man;  and  then  came 
the  fear  that  the  constant  drafts  upon  him  would 
use  up  his  small  savings. 

"  Frank,"  he  said  one  day,  "  I've  got  to  get  out 
of  this  or  I'll  be  stone  broke ;  do  you  know  of  any 
fellow  that  will  take  me  on  a  range  ?  " 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  John,  "  this  gang  takes  me  for  the 
treasurer  of  an  inebriates'  home,  I  guess,  and  will 
soon  scoop  every  cent  I've  got." 

"  That's  it,  eh?  "  returned  Bridges.  "  Well, 
I'll  go  down  the  Missouri  with  you.  I'm  pretty 
well  acquainted  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  or  so 
234 


A  MIGRATION. 

below,  and  I  know  where  I  can  go  range-ridin' 
for  a  big  cattleman  any  time." 

"  If  you  think  you  can  work  me  in,  I'll  go," 
exclaimed  the  younger.  "  I'll  buy  that  sorrel 
cayuse  from  Murphy.  I  can  get  him  for  fifteen,  y\, 
I  guess,  and  we'll  go  to-morrow — that  is,  if  you  I  i 
can  work  me  in."  This  last  was  spoken  rather 
dubiously,  but  Frank  assured  him  that  he  would 
fix  it  somehow,  and  the  compact  was  sealed. 

The  balance  of  the  day  was  spent  in  getting 
their  outfit  ready.  Frank  was  already  provided 
with  horse,  saddle,  and  bridle,  and  the  other  ap- 
purtenances of  the  rider:  chaps,  spurs,  oilskin 
slicker,  and  blankets.  Some  of  these  John  pos- 
sessed also,  but  he  still  lacked  a  horse;  a  few 
simple  necessaries  in  the  shape  of  a  frying-pan, 
tin  cups,  coffee,  flour,  sugar,  and  the  inevitable 
beans  must  be  supplied  for  both.  The  dicker  for 
John's  sorrel  was  made  in  short  order,  and  by 
nightfall  all  the  outfit  was  complete.  At  day- 
light the  following  morning  they  were  busy  mak- 
ing up  the  packs,  and  a  hard  job  they  found  it, 
for  nothing  seemed  to  fit,  and  apparently  there 
was  enough  stuff  to  load  a  whole  train.  It  was 
made  up  at  last  into  two  packs  and  lashed  se- 
curely behind  the  saddles;  they  mounted  and 
rode  out  of  the  fast-awakening  town.  One  of 
the  two  at  least  was  leaving  it  for  a  long  time, 
235 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

to  return  under  very  different  circumstances. 
Nothing  of  this  sort  entered  their  minds,  how- 
ever, and  they  went  out  as  unconsciously  as  if  off 
for  a  half -day's  trip. 

Frank  knew  the  country  pretty  thoroughly, 
having  been  over  it  once  or  twice  before,  so  it 
was  plain  sailing  most  of  the  time.  Day  after 
day  they  travelled  along  at  a  dog  trot — a  gait 
that  the  Western  horse  can  keep  up  all  day  and 
one  which  a  rider  brought  up  to  it  finds  perfectly 
comfortable,  but  which  would  shake  the  teeth 
out  of  an  Easterner.  The  trail  was  clearly 
marked,  easily  followed,  and  much  of  the  way 
wide  enough  to  allow  the  horsemen  to  ride  side 
by  side. 

Though  the  two  had  been  partners  for  several 
months  they  had  seen  but  little  of  each  other; 
during  the  day  at  the  railroad  camp  Frank 
worked  while  John  slept,  and  during  the  night 
the  reverse  was  the  case.  This  was  the  first 
chance  either  had  of  really  knowing  the  other, 
and  both  were  well  pleased.  There  was  plenty 
of  time  and  opportunity  to  talk,  and  they  soon 
found  that  they  had  plenty  of  acquaintances  in 
common. 

"  Ever  been  to  Miles  City?  "  John  said  one  day 
as  they  were  trotting  steadily  along.  The  leather 
of  the  saddles  creaked  and  the  cooking  utensils 
236 


A  MIGRATION. 

made  a  regular  accompaniment  to  the  thudding 
hoof-beats. 

"  Sure.     Two  years  ago  this  spring." 

"  That  was  about  the  time  Dick  Bradford  and 
Charley  Lang  shot  each  other,  wasn't  it  ?  "  John 
was  referring  to  a  "  killing  "  that  was  famous  the 
country  round. 

"  Yes,  and  I  was  right  there  in  Brown's  place 
at  the  time." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  Frank.  Some  say  Brad- 
ford was  to  blame  and  some  say  that  Lang  de- 
served it.  I  knew  Charley  Lang  a  little  and 
thought  him  a  nice  fellow." 

"  Well,"  said  Frank,  "  it  isn't  a  long  story;  it 
all  happened  the  same  day,  the  quarrel  and  the 
killing.  For  some  reason  there  was  bad  blood 
between  them;  both  had  been  drinking,  and  a 
little  dispute  was  enough  to  make  them  ready  to 
pull  their  guns  on  each  other." 

"  Charley  was  pretty  quick  with  his  gun,"  in- 
terpolated John,  full  of  interest. 

"  So  was  Dick ;  but  their  friends  took  their 
shootin'  irons  away  from  'em,  and  finally  per- 
suaded them  to  shake  hands,  and  for  a  time  there 
was  no  further  trouble,  but  all  the  old  hands 
feared  that  the  business  would  not  end  there. 
Both  men  came  to  Brown's  place  before  supper. 
Maybe  you  know  the  joint — a  good  many  things 
237 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

have  happened  there,  and  Brown  himself  could 
tell  enough  stories  to  fill  a  dozen  dime  novels." 

John  nodded. 

"  It  wasn't  very  pleasant  there  then ;  the  two 
were  plainly  looking  for  each  other's  gore,  and 
we  all  wished  we  could  put  a  couple  of  hundred 
miles  between  them.  Well,  anyway,  Dick  saw 
Charley  and  called  him  an  ugly  name  and  then 
invited  him  to  take  a  drink.  He  might  have  re- 
fused; that  would  have  been  bad  enough,  but  he 
did  worse,  accepted,  and  took  the  glass  in  his  left 
hand — which,  as  everybody  knows,  is  a  deadly 
insult,  to  accept  a  man's  hospitality  with  your 
left  hand,  leaving  your  right  free  to  pull  your 
gun." 

"  But  I  should  think  it  might  just  happen  so," 
suggested  John. 

"  So  it  might,  but  Charley  made  his  meaning 
clear  by  the  look  he  gave  Dick.  Nothing  oc- 
curred then — neither  had  a  gun — but  after  sup- 
per they  managed  to  get  a  six-shooter  apiece  and 
soon  turned  up  at  Brown's  again.  When  I  came 
in  Charley  was  sitting  on  the  end  of  the  bar,  talk- 
ing to  the  l  barkeep,'  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his 
head,  his  legs  swinging,  the  spurs  on  his  heels 
jingling  when  they  touched — the  most  uncon- 
cerned man  going.  Dick  was  leaning  against  the 
wall  the  other  side  of  the  room.  He  was  mad 
238 


A  MIGRATION. 

clean  through.  A  couple  of  fellers  were  with 
him,  but  they  couldn't  stop  him  from  jerking 
out  his  gun.  He  fired,  but  Charley  had  had 
his  eye  on  him  and  reached  for  his  six-shooter. 
The  same  instant  the  ball  hit  him  in  the  chest. 
He  slid  off  the  bar,  but  as  he  fell  he  fired  twice, 
and  both  shots  went  through  Dick's  heart. 
Dick  died  right  off  and  Charley  lived  only  a 
few  minutes — he  died  in  my  arms." 

"  What  a  way  to  die!  "  was  the  only  comment 
John  made. 

"  Those  were  the  very  last  words  Charley 
spoke,"  said  Frank,  more  to  himself  than  to  his 
listener. 

"  I  guess  Miles  City  was  the  toughest  place 
going  then,"  said  the  boy.  "  Why,  I  was  driving 
through  the  town  with  my  father  one  day  (that 
was  when  we  were  opening  a  big  coal  mine  down 
the  Yellowstone)  and  we  went  under  a  half -fin- 
ished railroad  bridge  and  there,  hanging  from  the 
ties,  were  the  bodies  of  three  men.  Lynched. 
Ugh!  "  John  shuddered  at  the  remembrance 
of  it. 

"  Was  that  the  case  where  there  was  some  talk 
of  the  men  being  killed  first  and  hung  after- 
wards? "  inquired  Frank. 

"  Yes.  There  had  been  a  row  in  Brown's 
place,  and  these  three  had  been  put  in  jail,  but 
239 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

during  the  night  they  were  taken  out  and  in  the 
morning  were  found  as  we  saw  them.  The  regu- 
lar vigilance  committee  had  not  done  it,  and  the 
doctor  said  death  first,  hanged  afterwards." 

Both  of  these  characteristic  stories  were  com- 
mon talk  whenever  a  crowd  got  together,  but 
neither  Frank  nor  John  had  heard  the  facts  told 
by  an  eye-witness  before. 

It  must  not  be  thought  all  the  conversation  of 
these  two  was  of  this  blood-and-thunder  variety. 
Frank  had  lived  in  the  East,  and  marvellous  were 
the  tales  he  told  about  the  buildings,  the  people, 
and  their  doings.  The  two  were  so  interested  in 
each  other,  and  what  each  had  seen,  that  the  time 
passed  very  quickly,  and  so  John  was  surprised 
when  Frank  said  late  one  afternoon :  "  See  that 
blue  range  of  hills  about  thirty  miles  ahead?  " 

John  looked  and  nodded  an  assent. 

"  "Well,  Baker's  ranch  is  right  at  the  foot  of 
them,  and  Sun  River  runs  through  it.  That's 
where  we're  goin'." 

The  following  morning  they  rode  towards  the 
ranch  house,  past  the  minor  buildings,  the  barns 
and  sheds,  past  the  hay  stack,  now  bulging  with 
its  winter  store,  past  the  inevitable  horse  corral, 
just  then  containing  several  horses  which  were 
circling  round  trying  to  avoid  a  cow-puncher's 
"rope."  As  they  reached  the  ranch  house 
240 


A  MIGRATION. 

proper — a  low,  single-storied  house  built  of  logs 
and  roofed  with  split  logs  covered  with  turf — a 
chunky,  white-haired  man  in  overalls  stepped  out 
of  the  door. 

"  Hello,  Mr.  Baker,"  said  Frank.  "  You  see 
you  can't  lose  me." 

"Well,  Frank,  it's  you,  is  it?  I'm  terrible 
glad  to  see  you.  How  are  you?  "  Mr.  Baker's 
greeting  was  cordial.  "Who's  your  friend? 
What's  his  name  ?  "  he  added,  noticing  John  for 
the  first  time. 

He  was  introduced,  and  the  warm  grasp  of  the 
hand  that  John  got  from  the  old  ranchman  won 
him  at  once. 

"  Mrs.  Baker  will  bubble  over  when  she  sees 
you,  Frank.  Tie  your  horses  and  come  in." 

A  long  hitching  rail  ran  along  the  front  of  the 
shack,  and  to  this  Frank  and  John  made  their 
horses  fast. 

Mrs.  Baker's  greeting  was  even  more  cordial 
than  her  husband's,  and  the  youngster  looked  on 
at  the  display  of  affection  rather  wistfully.  Nor 
was  he  ignored  in  the  general  greetings. 

"  You're  just  the  fellow  I  want  to  see,  Frank," 
said  the  cheerful,  kindly,  buxom,  albeit  gray- 
haired  ranchman's  wife.  "  Mr.  B.'s  getting 
kinder  old  to  be  chasing  round  the  ranch  looking 
after  cattle  and  the  range-riders,  and  I  want  you 
16  241 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

to  see  to  all  that  so  I  can  keep  Mr.  Baker  at  home. 
Will  you  do  it?  "  She  looked  from  her  husband 
to  Frank  and  back  again. 

"  I'm  looking  for  a  job,  and  so's  my  friend 
Worth  here.  If  you'll  take  us  both  I'll  be  glad 
to  stay,"  and  Frank  began  to  enlarge  on  John's 
virtues,  and  told  how  they  had  shared  the  same 
bed.  He  characterized  him  as  a  "  plumb  good 
feller." 

"Of  course  he  can  get  to  work,"  said  the  couple 
together. 

"  Got  a  saddle?  "  asked  the  old  man. 

"  Yes,  I've  got  a  good  outfit,"  answered  the 
boy. 

"  Well,  you  can  go  range-ridin'."  The  ranch- 
man spoke  in  a  tone  that  was  not  to  be  gainsaid 
— it  amounted  to  a  command.  John  understood 
vaguely  that  range-riding  was  something  like 
horse-wrangling,  only  the  job  he  was  now  about 
to  undertake  would  last  during  the  day  and  night 
too. 

The  following  day  the  boy  was  sent  forth  to  his 
new  work.  It  was  cold,  and  the  gray  ISfovember 
sky  had  a  look  of  snow  in  it;  the  air,  too,  felt 
snowy.  In  the  ranch  house  all  was  warm  and 
comfortable :  a  great  fire  of  cottonwood  logs  was 
blazing  in  the  open  fireplace,  a  few  pictures  and 
examples  of  needle-work — the  evidences  of  a 
242 


A  MIGRATION. 

woman's  hand — were  interspersed  with  mannish 
things:  rifles  in  rough  wooden  racks,  antlers  of 
deer  and  prong-horns,  bridles  decorated  with 
sih7er  hung  here  and  there  on  nails,  and  a  long 
wooden  peg,  driven  into  the  whitewashed  logs, 
supported  a  richly  carved  saddle,  Mr.  Baker's 
own. 

From  this  cheer  and  comfort  John  went  into 
exile,  to  last  several  months — the  cold,  bitter, 
winter  months  of  the  Northwest. 

With  the  instructions  of  Mr.  Baker  and  the 
warnings  of  Frank  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  started 
off  for  the  shack  he  was  to  share  with  an  old, 
experienced  cow-puncher  throughout  the  winter. 
The  eight  miles  were  soon  covered,  and  he  drew 
up  before  the  little  log  shack  which  was  to  be  his 
winter  home.  A  little  box  of  a  cabin  it  was,  per- 
haps twelve  by  fifteen  feet,  built  solidly  of  logs 
and  backed  up  against  a  low  bank  for  the  shelter 
it  afforded.  He  dismounted  and  entered;  a 
single  small  window  lightened  the  gloom  some- 
what and  enabled  him  to  see  the  familiar  rough 
bunks  on  either  side,  one  for  each  occupant;  a 
rough  deal  table  supported  on  one  side  by  the 
wall  and  on  the  other  by  two  legs;  a  frying-pan, 
a  coffee  pot,  and  a  few  tin  cups — none  over-clean 
— hung  near  the  fireplace;  these  completed  the 
decorations  and  furniture  of  the  range-riders' 
243 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

shack.     It  was  one  of  several  placed  at  varying 
distances  from  the  home  ranch. 

After  tying  his  horse  and  bringing  in  the  few 
belongings  he  possessed,  he  sat  down  on  the 
empty  bunk  and  waited  for  Barney  Madden,  his 
mate,  whom  he  had  never  seen.  He  wondered 
what  kind  of  a  fellow  he  was. 


244 


CHAPTER    XV. 


KANGE-RIDING. 

"  Hello,  kid!  Who  you  lookin'  for?  "  The 
voice  was  deep  and  full  and  had  a  cheerful,  con- 
fident ring  in  it. 

John  looked  up  quickly  and  saw  standing 
in  the  narrow  doorway  a  man  whom  he  rightly 
guessed  to  be  Barney  Madden.  He  was  a  man 
over  thirty,  of  medium  height,  rather  slight,  wiry 
build,  showing  good,  hard  condition;  his  face, 
decorated  with  a  brown  mustache,  was  a  good  one 
— determination,  courage,  and  an  abundant  sense 
of  humor  could  be  seen  there.  He  had  deep-set, 
blue-gray  eyes,  which  could  be  both  stern  and 
merry. 

"  I'm  looking  for  you,  I  guess,"  the  youngster 
answered,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  if  you're 
Barney  Madden.  My  name's  Worth,  John 
Worth,  and  Mr.  Baker  sent  me  out  here  to 
help  you  range-ridin'." 

"  Sure,  I'm  Barney  Madden.  I'm  plumb  glad 
to  see  yer;  you  look  like  a  good,  husky  kid,  and 
245 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

will  help  me  a  lot,  I  hope.  Put  your  horse  in  the 
dug-out  yonder,  then  come  back  and  help  me  get 
supper,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  little,  cave-like 
house  built  to  shelter  the  horses  of  the  range- 
riders  in  winter. 

Soon  the  sorrel  was  contentedly  munching  hay 
in  the  warm  stables  with  three  or  four  other 
horses. 

Returning  to  the  shack,  John  found  Barney 
on  his  knees  blowing  the  fire  vigorously. 

"  Well,  kid,  you'd  better  go  down  to  the  creek 
for  some  water."  Barney  spoke  in  a  disjointed 
fashion,  between  puffs.  "  Can  you  cook?  " 

The  youngster  said  he  could  a  little. 

"  Well,  suppose  you  try  on  this  supper.  I 
ain't  no  cook,  never  was ;  don't  like  it.  If  you'll 
take  care  of  the  eatin'  outfit  I'll  be  satisfied  all 
right." 

The  supper  over,  Madden  expressed  his  com- 
plete satisfaction,  and  so  John  was  installed  chief 
cook  and  head  (also  foot)  of  the  commissary 
department. 

The  following  morning  his  work  as  a  cow- 
puncher  began.  At  mining,  sheep-ranching,  and 
horse  and  mule  herding  he  had  served  a  full  ap- 
prenticeship, and  he  now  became  a  full-fledged 
cowboy.  Each  of  his  previous  occupations  had 
helped  to  fit  him  for  the  present  undertaking. 
246 


' « MANGE-SIDING. " 

Almost  from  his  babyhood  he  could  ride,  and 
about  the  same  time  he  learned  to  "  throw  the 
rope,"  as  the  act  of  casting  the  lariat  is  called, 
and  by  constant  practice  had  grown  more  and 
more  proficient. 

The  duties  of  the  range-rider,  as  he  soon 
learned,  were  to  cover  a  certain  territory  (which 
in  this  case  was  that  section  which  lay  between 
Saffron  and  Buffalo  creeks)  to  see  that  the  dif- 
ferent bunches  of  cattle  did  not  get  into  trouble, 
or,  in  case  they  did  get  into  difficulties,  to  rescue 
them.  Each  morning  the  two  rose  with  the  sun, 
and  after  a  very  simple  toilet — to  put  on  a  hat 
and  a  pair  of  spurs  sufficed  sometimes — a  break- 
fast of  bacon,  bread,  and  coffee  was  dispatched. 
Saddling  their  mounts  was  the  next  thing  in  order, 
and  each  day  the  horse  that  had  been  idle  the 
day  before  was  selected.  This  operation  is  easier 
to  describe  than  to  accomplish,  for,  as  a  rule,  the 
cow  pony  has  a  strong  dislike  for  the  clinging 
saddle,  and  especially  for  the  hind  cinch — it  in- 
terferes with  his  free  breathing  and  grips  him 
at  a  tender  spot.  When  the  horse  has  been  led 
out  and  the  fifty-pound  (or  more)  saddle  is 
thrown  over  his  back,  the  fun  begins ;  he  prances 
around  as  if  on  hot  iron,  and  a  keen  eye  and 
quick  foot  are  needed  to  keep  out  of  reach  of 
hoofs  or  teeth;  at  length,  during  an  unguarded 
247 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

second,  the  flapping  cinch  is  captured  and 
brought  under  his  belly  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye;  the  strap  on  the  other  side  is  rove  through 
the  ring,  and  with  a  quick  pull  tightened;  but 
the  pony,  who  has  been  expecting  this,  takes  a 
deep  breath,  and  at  the  same  time  humps  his  back. 
If  the  rider  is  inexperienced  and  secures  the  strap 
when  the  pony  is  thus  puffed  up  he  will  come  to 
grief  when  he  tries  to  mount,  the  saddle  promptly 
slipping  round  as  soon  as  he  puts  his  weight  on 
the  stirrup,  and  the  knowing  horse  empties  his 
lungs  and  straightens  his  back.  John  was  up 
to  all  such  tricks,  and  when  "  Roany "  (the 
sorrel's  companion  and  the  spare  horse  allotted  to 
the  young  rider)  blew  himself  up,  he  simply  put 
his  foot  up  against  the  pony's  side  and  gave  a  tre- 
mendous and  sudden  heave.  It  is  a  rather  incon- 
siderate and  humiliating  method — for  the  horse. 
Roany  grunted  protestingly;  immediately  his 
girth  was  reduced  several  inches  and  John  made 
the  cinch  fast. 

The  horses  saddled,  the  two  riders  went  in  op- 
posite directions,  visiting  the  well-known  haunt 
of  each  bunch  of  cattle  in  the  section  of  country 
committed  to  their  care.  In  pleasant  weather, 
when  the  feed  was  good  and  water  plenty,  this 
was  by  no  means  an  irksome  duty.  The  horse  is 
fresh  and  full  of  life;  the  rider,  exhilarated  by 
248 


' '  RANGE-RIDING. " 

the  bracing  air  and  swift  motion,  shouts  aloud 
from  pure  joy  at  being  alive.  The  day's  circuit 
completed,  he  comes  back  to  the  shack,  somewhat 
tired,  but  the  possessor  of  an  appetite  that  would 
make  a  dyspeptic  toiler  in  a  city  office  still  paler 
with  envy. 

But  John  began  range-riding  during  the  hard- 
est season  of  the  year,  when  keen,  searching 
winds  had  to  be  faced,  blizzards  encountered,  and 
work  of  the  hardest,  most  depressing  kind  had  to 
be  done. 

"  By  gum !  this  beats  all,"  said  Barney  one 
morning,  some  months  after  John  joined  him. 
He  got  out  of  his  bunk,  and,  walking  over  to  the 
single  window,  looked  out.  "Snowin'  yet.  Here 
this  thing's  been  goin'  on  fer  ten  days  steady; 
grass  all  covered  up,  cattle  near  done,  and  horses 
worn  out — and  it's  snowin'  yet !  Seem's  if  Prov- 
idence was  down  on  us,"  and  Barney  proceeded 
with  his  morning  toilet,  pulling  on  his  boots  and 
grumbling  under  his  breath. 

John  had  something  of  the  same  idea  in 
his  mind;  he  began  to  think  all  this  terrible 
weather  was  punishment  meted  out  to  him  for 
running  away  from  home.  For  two  weeks  the 
two  riders  had  been  in  the  saddle  fourteen  hours 
a  day,  and  the  strain  was  beginning  to  tell  on 
both  men  and  beasts.  This  was  the  terrible  win- 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

ter  of  1886-87,  when  many  cattlemen  were  al- 
most ruined. 

"  Come,  kid;  get  a  move  011,"  said  Barney 
rather  wearily.  "  It's  tough,  but  it's  got  to  be 
done." 

They  tramped  out  into  the  blinding  flurry  of 
flakes  and  routed  out  their  unwilling  horses. 
There  was  no  frisking,  and  no  tricks  to  avoid  sad- 
dling; the  poor  beasts  stood  resignedly  and  al- 
lowed their  masters  to  put  them  into  their  bonds 
without  a  protest. 

"  So  long,"  shouted  John. 

"  S'long,"  returned  the  other. 

And  so  they  separated.  John  followed  the 
frozen  Saffron  Creek.  It  was  lined  with  brush 
which  afforded  some  shelter  for  the  half-starved 
cattle  that  were  collected  in  compact  bunches  at 
different  points  for  the  sake  of  warmth.  Six 
hundred  head  of  cattle  were  thus  scattered  along 
the  two  creeks.  Each  of  these  John  visited,  and 
with  shouts  and  blows  urged  them  from  the  cover 
where  otherwise  they  would  stay— dazed,  stupid, 
gradually  growing  weaker  till  they  died  in  their 
tracks.  Once  in  the  open,  they  moved  more 
briskly,  butting  and  crowding  each  other  till 
their  blood  got  circulating  again,  and  they  took 
some  interest  in  searching  for  the  scanty  grass 
revealed  by  their  trampling  hoofs. 
250 


"  RANGE-RIDING." 

This  morning,  after  riding  a  half  mile  or  so 
from  the  shack,  John  came  upon  a  bunch  of 
stock.  He  shouted  at  them  and  slapped  those 
nearest  with  his  hat;  soon  all  were  moving  to- 
wards the  open.  All  went  well  till  a  big  snow 
bank  was  encountered;  this  the  shivering  cattle, 
weakened  by  hunger,  refused  to  tackle,  so  John 
drove  his  horse  into  the  white  bank,  and  by  floun- 
dering through  two  or  three  times  a  trail  was 
made.  Still  the  stock  refused  to  go  through; 
but  at  last,  with  much  urging  and  pushing  by 
Roany,  breast  to  rump,  three  were  forced  to  the 
other  side  and  the  others  reluctantly  followed. 
One  old  cow  still  remained,  weak,  wavering,  her 
last  calf  sapping  her  vitality ;  back  went  John  and 
Roany;  the  rope  was  uncoiled  and  the  noose 
dropped  over  her  horns.  A  couple  of  turns  hav- 
ing been  taken  round  the  saddle  horn,  Roany 
scratched  and  tugged,  the  old  cow  struggled  a 
bit,  and  in  a  jiffy  the  brave  little  horse  "  snaked  " 
her  through. 

A  little  further  on  the  same  thing  was  done 
with  another  bunch. 

From  time  to  time,  as  he  rode  along,  John  saw 
queer  mounds  partly  or  wholly  covered  with 
snow:  they  were  the  cattle  that  had  succumbed. 
Many  more  then  living  he  knew  would  give  up,  • 
try  as  he  might  and  did  to  protect  them. 
251 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

Further  on  he  noted  a  fresh  victim,  and  as  he 
drew  near  two  gray,  slinking  forms  left  it. 

"  Hold  on,  Roany ;  we'll  have  to  get  a  shot  at 
those,"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word  he 
pulled  his  steed  up  and  drew  his  six-shooter.  The 
wolves  were  moving  off  slowly,  licking  their 
bloody  chops  and  snarling  at  the  interruption  of 
their  feast,  their  heads  turned  back  toward  the 
boy,  their  teeth  showing,  their  yellow  eyes  gleam- 
ing. Crack  went  John's  pistol,  and  one  fell  over 
kicking.  The  other  bolted  for  cover. 

Crack,  crack,  the  shots  rang  out,  and  he  too 
dropped.  In  a  minute  both  wolves  were  skinned 
by  making  a  cut  along  each  leg  and  down  the 
belly,  and  then  with  a  strong  pull  yanking  the 
pelt  off.  The  legs  were  tied  together  and  both 
skins  hung  over  the  branch  of  a  nearby  tree,  the 
location  being  carefully  noted.  Then  the  boy 
rode  on  his  melancholy  task. 

As  the  daylight  began  to  wane,  the  effect  of 
the  hard  day's  work  was  felt  by  both  horse  and 
rider,  and  John  looked  forward  to  the  time,  but 


"RANGE-RIDING." 

a  couple  of  hours  off  now,  when  he  would  return 
to  the  warm  shack  and  satisfy  his  already  raven- 
ous hunger.  They  were  still  many  miles  from 
shelter,  and  he  knew  that  travelling  must  be  dif- 
ficult, if  not  dangerous. 

"  Come,  Roany,  old  boy,  brace  up !  "  he  called 
cheerily  to  his  fagged  mount,  giving  him  a 
friendly  pat  on  the  neck  at  the  same  time. 
"  We've  got  to  get  home."  And  he  touched  him 
lightly  with  his  quirt.  The  good  horse  re- 
sponded bravely  and  floundered  through  the  deep 
snow,  emerging  on  a  bare,  wind-swept  spot  where 
he  could  make  much  better  time.  The  pace  was 
so  good  that  John  could  almost  feel  in  imagina- 
tion the  warm  glow  of  the  fire  and  smell  the 
fragrance  of  frying  bacon. 

As  they  went  on  their  way  they  reached  a 
steep  little  hill,  the  sides  of  which  were  covered 
deep  with  snow  ;  down  this  they  plunged 
with  ever-increasing  speed.  Suddenly  Roany 
stopped,  stopped  so  short,  indeed,  that  John  was 
thrown  over  his  head  into  a  bank  of  snow.  As 
soon  as  might  be  he  picked  himself  up,  dug  the 
snow  out  of  his  eyes,  ears,  and  mouth,  and  looked 
to  see  what  the  trouble  was.  Roany  was  strug- 
gling violently.  John  soon  found  that  he  had 
stepped  into  a  deep  badger  hole,  the  sides  and 
top  of  which,  frozen  hard,  were  unyielding,  and 
253 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

held  the  poor  beast's  leg  like  a  vise,  twisting 
and  breaking  the  joint  badly.  The  boy  saw  at 
once  that  Roany  would  have  to  be  killed;  that 
there  was  no  help  for  him.  It  would  be  a  mercy 
to  put  him  out  of  his  misery,  for  he  could  feel 
him  quivering,  and  his  eyes  bulged  out  with  pain. 
It  was  a  hazardous  position  for  himself,  but  for 
the  moment  he  forgot  it  in  his  distress  for  his 
horse. 

"Roany,  old  boy,  I've  got  to  kill  you,"  he 
said,  feeling  that  he  must  justify  his  act — really 
one  of  mercy.  "  You'll  freeze  to  death  if  I 
don't." 

He  drew  his  six-shooter  from  the  holster,  put 
the  muzzle  against  the  horse's  forehead,  then, 
turning  his  face  away,  pulled  the  trigger.  A 
few  convulsive  struggles  and  Roany 's  sufferings 
were  over. 

John  loosened  the  cinch,  and  with  considerable 
difficulty  pulled  the  saddle  from  under  and  hung 
it  to  a  nearby  poplar ;  the  bridle  was  treated  like- 
wise; then  he  stood  up  and  looked  around  him, 
wondering  what  he  should  do  next. 

It  was  no  time  for  sentiment,  so  he  gave  his 
whole  thought  to  the  best  way  of  reaching  the 
shack.  He  was  already  tired  and  hungry;  the 
wind  was  blowing  the  still  falling  snow  so  that 
it  was  blinding,  and  there  were  seven  miles  of 
254 


"  RANGE-HIDING" 

rough  country  to  cover  before  shelter  could  be 
reached.  John  set  his  teeth,  and,  after  giving 
a  final  glance  at  his  faithful  horse,  he  set  out. 
This  time,  fortunately,  he  had  but  himself  to 
think  of  and  look  out  for,  and  if  he  could  cover 
the  distance  before  freezing  all  would  be  well. 
He  struck  off  to  the  right,  and,  after  floundering 
through  drifts,  sliding  down  steep  places,  and 
fighting  the  biting  blast  in  the  open,  he  came  to 
the  creek  that  ran  past  the  shack:  he  had  but  to 
follow  it.  Hour  after  hour  he  toiled  along,  his 
body  bathed  with  sweat,  his  hands,  feet,  and  face 
icy  cold.  The  snow  blown  in  his  eyes  blinded 
him,  hidden  obstructions  tripped  him,  and  hun- 
ger took  away  his  strength.  Late  that  night  he 
stumbled  through  the  door  of  the  shack  into  the 
wTarmth  and  light. 

Barney  was  wide  awake  and  watching. 

"  By  God !  I'm  glad  you're  in,"  he  said,  grab- 
bing him  by  the  arm  and  dragging  him  forward; 
then,  as  the  lamp-light  shone  on  him  clearly,  he 
turned  him  round  and  pushed  him  out  again. 

"  Your  face  is  white :  it's  frozen.  Get  snow 
on  it,  quick." 

John  thought  he  had  had  enough  snow  on  him 

that  day — face  and  all — to  last  him  the  rest  of 

his  life,  but  he  submitted  to  the  rough  rubbing 

that  Barney  gave  him  without  a  word,  and  soon 

255 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

the  chalky  look  gave  way  to  the  glow  of  red  blood 
circulating  freely. 

He  was  thoroughly  exhausted,  but  the  food 
and  fire  prepared  by  his  partner  revived  him. 
somewhat,  and  he  turned  into  his  rough,  hard 
bunk  and  slept  like  a  hibernating  bear. 

When  the  sun  came  out  bright  and  warm  and 
the  snow  began  to  melt,  the  havoc  wrought  by 
the  storm  became  manifest.  Only  the  strongest 
cattle  remained  alive,  and  of  these  most  were 
males.  The  survivors  were  weak  and  their  bones 
almost  punctured  their  worn-looking  skins.  In 
the  more  sheltered  spots  lay  many  once  sturdy 
cows  and  heifers  that  later  became  a  heap  of 
whitened  bones.  Though  the  thaw  revealed  all 
these  horrors,  it  also  uncovered  the  herbage,  and 
little  by  little  the  remaining  animals  began  to 
gain  strength  and  weight. 

Now  the  range-riders  were  kept  busy  pulling 
the  foolish  ones  out  of  big  holes.  Each  day  the 
various  bunches  of  cattle  were  visited,  and  with 
discouraging  frequency  some  of  them  would  be 
found  mired  helplessly,  weakened  by  their  long 
fast  and  rendered  crazy  by  fright;  their  struggles 
to  get  out  of  the  sticky  mud  only  sunk  them  more 
deeply.  It  now  became  the  cowboy's  duty  to 
throw  his  rope  over  the  mired  beast's  horns,  make 
the  other  end  fast  to  the  saddle  horn,  then  to  urge 
256 


"  RANGE-RIDING." 

the  sturdy  little  cow-pony  forward  with  whip  and 
spur.  The  pony  tugs,  the  cow  struggles,  and 
soon  she  is  standing  on  terra  firma,  exhausted, 
indeed,  but  safe.  This  is  hard  work  for  the  pony 
and  its  rider,  to  say  nothing  of  the  cause  of  all 
the  trouble — which  is  looked  upon  merely  as  so 
much  beef  to  be  saved. 

With  steady  spring  weather  came  the  oppor- 
tunity to  visit  the  home  ranch,  and  John  was  glad 
enough  to  take  advantage  of  it.  It  was  a  long 
time  since  he  had  seen  Frank,  and,  of  course, 
there  was  much  to  talk  of.  It  was  Sunday,  in  the 
forenoon,  and  work,  for  the  time  being,  was  slack. 
Eight  or  ten  cow-punchers  were  at  the  ranch  and 
were  amusing  themselves  with  a  little  buckskin- 
colored  horse.  His  viciousness  had  earned  him 
the  title  of  "  Outlaw  " — that  is,  he  was  consid- 
ered unbreakable. 

He  was  in  the  corral,  small  of  stature,  and,  to 
the  uninitiated,  innocent  enough  in  appearance; 
but  for  all  that  he  had  just  bucked  off  Greaser 
Tony,  as  good  a  rider  as  one  could  find  in  a  long 
day's  journey. 

The  cow-punchers  sat  on  the  fence  and  egged 
each  other  on  to  tackle  the  unconquerable  little 
beast;  such  an  exhibition  was  great  sport  to  the 
looker-on,  but  of  doubtful  pleasure  to  the  partici- 
pant. 

17  257 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

"  Try  him,  Billy  Iron-legs,"  said  one.  "  You 
can  stick  him." 

"  Try  him  yourself,"  responded  Iron-legs. 
"  You're  lookin'  for  fun,  and  that  breakfast  you 
put  away  needs  a  little  shakin'  up." 

"How'd  the  earth  look  from  the  bird's-eye 
view  you  got  of  it,  Tony?  "  said  Frank  to  Greaser 
Tony,  who  was  off  in  a  corner  counting  his  bruises 
and  swearing  softly. 

"  Here,  Shorty,  you  ride  him ;  you're  always 
lookin'  for  somethin'  lively." 

Shorty's  inclination  to  kick  about  his  mount 
was  well  known;  he  had  a  way  of  calling  what- 
ever horse  was  set  apart  for  him  to  ride  "  old 
cow  "  or  "  kitten."  The  proposition  to  put  him 
on  the  "  Outlaw  "  and  tie  him  there  was  hailed 
with  delight,  but  he  dropped  from  his  place  on 
the  fence  and  vanished  before  any  one  could  lay 
hands  on  him.  At  this  juncture  Frank  came  to 
where  John  sat,  and  pointing  to  one  of  the  men 
said,  "  That's  the  horse-range  boss.  I  advise  you 
to  ride  that  little  buckskin  yourself;  'twon't  do 
you  any  harm  and  they'll  think  a  lot  of  you." 

Any  of  these  men  could  ride  the  horse,  but  it 
is  never  pleasant  to  ride  a  bucking  broncho,  and 
it  is  sometimes  dangerous. 

John  accepted  his  friend's  advice,  and  when 
Frank  shouted,  "  Here's  a  chap  that'll  ride  the 
258 


"  RANGE-RIDINQ." 

cayuse,"  he  jumped  over  the  fence  into  the  corral 
and  went  up  to  the  outlaw.  He  was  already  sad- 
dled and  a  hackamore  was  twisted  round  his  nose. 
John  thought  he  knew  horses  pretty  well,  for  his 
long  intimacy  with  Baldy  gave  him  the  inside 
track  of  equine  character.  The  little  buckskin's 
unbroken  spirit  and  courage  pleased  him  and  he 
felt  friendly.  The  little  fellow  had  been  abused; 
his  sides  were  cut  and  barred  by  quirting,  his 
head  and  nose  were  skinned  by  rough  ropes  in 
still  rougher  hands. 

All  men  were  his  enemies,  and  at  John's  ap- 
proach he  struck  out  with  his  fore  feet,  but  the 
boy  avoided  them  and  caught  the  hackamore 
close  up  to  the  head.  He  put  his  left  foot  in 
the  stirrup.  The  horse's  eye  was  upon  him,  but 
though  the  pony  was  quick  he  was  quicker,  and 
was  in  the  saddle  and  had  caught  the  right  stir- 
rup before  the  first  jump  was  finished. 

Round  one  in  favor  of  the  boy,  and  the  on- 
lookers said  "  Good!  " 

Then  began  some  of  the  "  tallest  "  stiff-legged 
bucking  ever  seen  in  that  corral.  Head  between 
his  legs,  back  humped,  squealing  shrilly,  the  little 
horse  shot  up  in  the  air  and  came  down  stiff- 
legged  with  a  jar  that  made  the  ground  tremble. 
Every  trick  known  to  the  cunning  breed  was 
tried — jumping  sideways,  twisting  in  the  air, 
259 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

plunging,  rearing  front  and  back — all  in  vain. 
John  stuck  like  a  leech  till  the  "  Outlaw  "  tired 
himself  out.  He  lasted  for  fifteen  minutes  with 
scarcely  a  pause.  Then  with  head  drooping,  nos- 
trils turned  out  till  the  red  showed,  literally 
drenched  with  sweat,  he  stood  quiet,  his  body 
exhausted  but  his  spirit  unconquered. 

John  dismounted  and  pulled  off  the  saddle, 
patted  the  little  horse's  neck,  and  turned  him 
loose. 

It  was  a  pretty  exhibition  of  horsemanship, 
and  the  spectators  appreciated  it.  It  was  done 
fairly,  there  was  no  "  pulling  leather  "  (holding 
on)  or  "  hobbling  stirrups  "  (tying  them  under- 
neath the  horse — a  great  assistance). 

A  number  of  the  punchers  expressed  their  ap- 
probation. "Good  work,  kid."  "That's  all 
right,  pardner,"  said  they.  The  boss  said  noth- 
ing, but  a  week  or  two  later  John  got  orders  to 
come  down  to  the  ranch  and  bring  his  bed. 


260 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A    BRONCHO    BUSTER. 

The  Sun  River  Ranch  was  a  large  one,  and 
many  cowboys  were  employed  to  look  after  the 
stock ;  practically  all  the  work  was  done  on  horse- 
back, the  cow-puncher  or  the  ranchman  never 
deigning  to  go  afoot — indeed  it  would  not  have 
been  possible  to  cover  the  necessary  ground  by 
any  other  means.  A  great  many  horses  there- 
fore were  needed,  each  cowboy  requiring  three 
or  four,  especially  at  those  times  of  the  year  when 
they  are  ridden  very  hard  and  have  to  be  changed 
frequently.  The  care  and  raising  of  the  horse 
herd  were  consequently  very  important  parts  of 
the  cattle-ranch  business.  The  cow-ponies  were 
bred  on  the  ranch  and  allowed  to  run  free  (it 
being  a  well-known  fact  that  they  would  not 
stray  very  far)  until  the  colts  were  old  enough  to 
break  to  the  saddle,  when  they  were  taken  in 
hand  by  certain  of  the  men  who  showed  particu- 
lar skill  in  that  direction. 

John  did  not  appreciate  the  full  significance 
261 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

of  the  order  to  return  to  the  home  ranch  till 
Frank,  who  seemed  to  be  a  walking  information 
bureau,  enlightened  him. 

"  If  you  want  to  go  on  the  horse  range  Harris 
will  take  you,"  he  was  informed.  "  It's  cleaner 
work  than  chasing  cows,  and  there's  more  money 
in  it.  Want  to  go?  " 

"  You  bet,"  was  John's  short  and  emphatic 
answer.  His  encounter  with  the  little  buckskin 
broncho  was  exciting  and  he  wanted  more ;  then, 
too,  cattle  are  tame,  stupid  creatures  compared 
with  horses. 

"  Here's  your  man,"  said  Frank  to  Harris,  the 
head  of  the  horse  outfit,  introducing  John.  "  He 
says  he's  ready  now." 

"Good!  You'll  find  Matt  and  Jerry  in  the 
corral  now.  Go  over  and  pitch  in.  There's 
twenty-five  head  that  I  want  ridable  by  the  time 
round-up  begins;  that's  only  a  week,  and  you'll 
have  to  work  'em  hard." 

And  so  John  became  a  broncho  buster. 

He  reached  the  rough  circular  enclosure  made 
of  split  rails  laid  one  over  the  other  alternately 
and  strongly  braced  to  stand  the  strain  that  would 
surely  be  brought  to  bear.  Inside  the  corral 
were  about  twenty-five  horses  that  had  not  seen 
a  man  half  a  dozen  times  in  their  lives;  they  were 
now  trying  to  get  as  far  away  as  possible  from 
262 


A  BRONCHO  BUSTER. 

the  two  men,  Matt  and  Jerry,  and  ran  frantically 
around  close  to  the  fence  that  walled  them  in. 
They  were  as  wild  as  deer  and  about  as  swift. 

Swish  !  hissed  the  rope.  As  John  climbed  the 
fence  it  settled  over  the  neck  of  a  big  bay.  In  a 
second  the  boy  was  inside  and  hanging  on  with 
the  other  two  men  to  the  end  of  the  rope.  The 
bay  plunged  and  tugged,  almost  frantic  with 
fright  and  rage,  but  the  three  kept  their  grip 
and  gradually  pulled  him  by  jerks  away  from 
the  bunch  and  towards  the  centre.  lu 

Nearer  and  nearer  he  is  worked  towards  the 
"  snubbing  post,"  a  stout  log  stuck  upright  in  the 
ground;  a  couple  of  turns  round  this  holds  him 
fast.  Jerry  takes  in  the  slack  as  he  plunges  and 
jumps  until  he  faces  the  post  only  a  few  yards 
off;  then  he  stops,  plants  his  feet,  and  sets  back 
on  the  rope;  the  tightening  noose  shuts  off  his 
wind,  and  he  wheezes  and  struggles  for  a  few 
moments,  totters,  and  falls  breathless.  Matt 
springs  to  his  head  and  sits  down  on  it,  the  rope 
is  relaxed,  and  the  poor  beast  is  allowed  to 
breathe  again.  Matt  still  holding  him  down, 
though  he  struggles  with  might  and  main,  John 
knots  the  rope  loosely  round  his  neck  and  shoul- 
ders, runs  it  back  under  the  hind  fetlock,  draws 
it  tight,  pulling  the  leg  up  close  to  the  body,  and 
makes  it  fast.  At  a  word  from  Jerry,  Matt 
263 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

jumps  to  one  side  and  the  bay  struggles  to  his 
feet — helpless,  as  he  has  but  three  legs  to  stand 
on.  John  rubs  his  neck  soothingly,  keeping  a 
sharp  watch  the  while  for  nipping  teeth;  he  be- 
lieves even  a  horse  has  some  feelings.  Matt  then 
takes  the  noose  from  the  neck,  and,  forcing  it  into 
his  mouth,  leads  the  end  back  of  the  ears,  makes 
a  half-hitch  round  the  nose,  then  passes  the  end 
through  the  noose  again — lo!  a  rough  sort  of 
bridle  or  "  hackamore."  Taking  the  loose  end, 
Matt  begins  to  pull  the  animal's  head  from  side 
to  side  until  he  understands  that  he  must  follow. 
The  first  lesson  is,  never  run  against  a  rope;  it 
prevents  comfortable  breathing. 

Saddling  comes  next.  A  saddle  bla  -ket  is 
thrown  over  the  horse  and  rubbed  gently  up  and 
down  his  back  to  acquaint  him  with  the  feel  of  it, 
then  comes  the  saddle;  the  trappings  frighten 
him  and  he  struggles,  trips,  and  falls.  The  opera- 
tion is  repeated,  until  finally  the  cinches  are 
drawn  and  buckled  securely.  The  big  bay  snorts 
and  trembles  in  every  fibre,  terrified  at  his  bonds, 
the  first  he  has  encountered  in  his  wild,  free  life 
— he  cannot  understand  it. 

Matt  and  Jerry  have  ridden  two  wild  horses 

apiece  that  morning,  so  John  volunteers  to  tackle 

the  bay.     The  horse  is  still  thrashing  round  at  a 

great  rate,  but  his  foot  is  still  tied  up  and  he  can 

264 


THE    SNUBBING    POST    HOLDS    HIM    FAST. 


JERRY   TAKES   IN   THE    SLACK. 


JOHN    KNOTS   THE    ROPE    LOOSELY   ROUND    HIS    NECK.       (Page  263.) 


A  BRONCHO  BUSTER. 

do  little.  John  reaches  up  and  knots  his  hand- 
kerchief round  the  poor  beast's  eyes,  then  releases 
the  foot,  mounts  quickly  into  the  saddle,  and 
leaning  forward  removes  the  blindfold.  The 
frightened  animal  stands  still,  cowering  like  a 
whipped  cur  or  a  chicken  that  sees  a  hawk  cir- 
cling above  her:  he  seems  to  be  waiting  for  the 
strange,  dreadful  creature  on  his  back  to  strike 
him  some  fearful  blow  or  sink  its  claws  into  his 
flesh — dreading  he  knows  not  what.  He  bounds 
f orward  a  few  steps — still  the  burden  sticks,  and 
he  stops  and  looks  round  at  it.  His  fear  fades 
and  the  courage  and  energy  of  his  race  return; 
he  determines  to  get  rid  of  this  thing  that  clings 
so  tightly.  He  leaps  forward,  runs  a  few  yards 
full  tilt,  then  stops  short,  fore  legs  stiff,  hind  legs 
crouching;  it's  a  very  sudden  jerk,  but  John 
hangs  on  with  his  knees,  leaning  far  back  in  the 
saddle.  Again  the  horse  tries  the  manoeuvre; 
no  use;  he  rears  on  his  hind  legs  and  then  on 
his  fore  legs ;  he  jumps  sideways,  bucks,  pitches, 
kicks,  without  a  moment's  rest  for  fifteen  min- 
utes. There  is  no  pause,  no  chance  to  get  a 
better  hold,  to  take  breath ;  it  is  a  continuous  vio- 
lent paroxysm  of  motion.  At  the  end  of  it  the 
bay  is  well-nigh  exhausted  and  all  in  a  tremble, 
while  John,  though  pretty  well  jarred,  is  calm 
and  master  of  the  situation.  The  horse  at  length 
265 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

submits  to  the  superior  will,  and,  magnificent  still 
but  now  under  control,  does  his  best  to  carry  out 
his  master's  wishes. 

By  the  time  the  bay  was  well  in  hand  and  John 
was  ready  to  take  the  saddle  off  and  let  him  go 
free  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  Matt  and  Jerry  had 
roped  another  horse  and  the  same  tactics  were 
pursued  with  it.  So  the  work  was  carried  through 
till  dark,  each  man  taking  his  turn  riding  horses 
that  had  never  been  bestrode  by  a  living  creature 
before.  There  was  a  kind  of  wild,  exhilarating 
excitement  about  it,  but  it  was  terribly  wearing, 
and  the  jar  and  strain  were  enough  to  use  up  a 
dozen  men  unaccustomed  to  the  work. 

The  following  day  all  the  horses  were  ridden 
again,  with  less  difficulty  this  time,  though  they 
were  lively  enough  to  suit  any  one.  Some  took  a 
week's  training,  some  a  month's,  some  were  never 
wholly  subdued.  To  this  latter  class  belonged 
the  little  buckskin  "  Outlaw,"  with  which  John 
had  had  such  a  lively  time  and  who  made  his 
reputation  as  a  broncho  buster.  The  boy  and 
the  horse  had  much  to  do  with  each  other  for  a 
number  of  years.  Their  close  acquaintanceship 
came  about  thus : 

The  little  buckskin  was  roped  regularly  every 
morning,  choked  down,  and  after  a  great  deal  of 
struggling,  saddled;  then  some  one  of  the  cow- 
266 


A  BRONCHO  BUSTER. 

punchers  would  ride  him  until  he  was  thoroughly 
exhausted.  This  was  continued  so  long  that  the 
little  horse  became  but  a  bag  of  bones,  chafed  and 
bruised,  a  wreck,  but  unbroken  in  spirit.  In 
spite  of  everything  he  continued  a  fighter  with 
each  ounce  of  strength  that  was  in  him — a  "  dead 
game  horse." 

"  He's  an  outlaw  if  ever  there  was  one,"  said 
Harris  one  day.  "  If  we  can't  give  him  away 
we'll  have  to  shoot  him,  for  he's  making  every 
other  horse  wild,  though  he's  near  ridden  to 
death." 

"  Let  me  have  him,"  said  John,  who  happened 
to  be  standing  near  and  overheard  the  remark. 
"  He's  a  dead  game  little  beast  and  I  like  him. 
I  think  I  can  work  him." 

"  Take  him  and  welcome,  kid,"  said  Harris, 
with  an  air  of  relief.  "  The  wilder  he  is  the 
tougher.  Tame  him  and  you'll  have  a  star." 

And  so  John  came  into  possession  of  the  little 
buckskin,  whom  he  named  appropriately  "  Light- 
ning "  or  "  Lite."  Jerry  said,  when  the  question 
of  giving  him  a  proper  name  was  under  consider- 
ation, "  I've  known  several  horses  named  Light- 
ning, but  I've  never  seen  a  hoss  as  would  fit  the 
name  like  him."  The  boy's  heart  had  not  so 
gone  out  to  a  horse  since  Baldy's  time,  and 
though  the  two  ponies  were  very  different  in 
267 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

appearance  and  disposition,  in  after  years  John 
found  it  hard  to  tell  which  he  most  cared  for. 

Before  beginning  the  training  he  let  up  on 
the  terrible  strain,  the  constant  struggle,  to  which 
"  Lite  "  had  been  subjected  and  allowed  him  to 
recuperate;  he  took  care  of  him  himself,  and 
later,  when  he  grew  stronger,  allowed  no  one  else 
to  ride  him.  Gradually  the  horse  learned  to  know 
his  master  and  understood  that  that  master  would 
not  ill-treat  him;  and  so  there  grew  up  a  sort  of 
sympathy  between  them.  "  Pitch  "  he  always 
did  when  John  first  mounted  him,  but  he  soon 
settled  down  to  steady  business,  and  a  mighty 
capable  beast  he  proved  to  be. 

Though  John  found  the  wages  of  a  broncho 
buster  good,  the  work  was  very  hard,  it  being  the 
most  violent  sort  of  gymnastics  all  day  long. 
When  night  came  he  was  glad  enough  to  sit  down 
and  rest;  he  would,  in  fact,  not  have  been  sorry 
to  turn  in  right  after  supper,  but  the  talk  and 
stories  the  men  told  were  too  good  to  be  lost.  It 
was  near  round-up  season  and  the  riders  were 
being  gathered,  preparatory  to  starting  off  on 
that  great  yearly  summing-up  expedition.  There 
were  men  from  all  over  the  United  States  and 
Mexico,  college-bred  men  and  men  of  the  soil. 
No  man  knew  the  other's  history,  nor  would  any 
one  ask  questions.  There  was  hardly  one  but 


A  BRONCHO  BUSTER. 

had  strange  experiences,  some  of  which  they 
told.  Then  there  were  songs,  many  of  which 
were  familiar  to  all  and  therefore  popular. 
Frank  Bridges  soon  became  a  favorite  with 
everyone;  his  good  nature  and  jolly  fellowship 
won  him  many  friends.  Moreover,  he  had  a 
good  voice  and  was  constantly  called  upon  to 
exhibit  his  ability. 

It  was  on  a  restful  evening,  after  supper  was 
over  and  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  were  sinking; 
the  men  were  lounging  about  in  the  most  com- 
fortable positions  they  could  find;  the  talk  had 
died  down  to  a  monosyllable  now  and  then. 
JMatt,  the  broncho  buster,  broke  the  silence: 
"  Frank,  give  us  the  '  Grass  of  Uncle  Sam ' ; 
you're  the  only  feller  that  can  remember  words 
and  tune  both." 

And  Frank,  obliging  as  always,  without  any 
excuses  or  palavering,  sang  the  following  in  a 
good  strong  baritone: 


r-M i —  — T 

Now,  peo  -  pie      of      the  East-era  towns,  it's     lit    -   tie 


II          I 


that  you  know  A  -  bout    the   West-era  prair-ies:  Where  the 
269 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


beef  you    eat  does  grow ;  Where  the  hors-es  they  run  wild 
8 


with  the  mountain  -  sheep  and    ram ;   And   the   cow  -  boy 


\ ' —  — I — 

sleeps  con  -  tent  -  ed     on     the    grass    of     Tin    -   cle    Sam. 

THE  GRASS  OF  UNCLE  SAM. 

Now,  people  of  the  Eastern  towns, 

It's  little  that  you  know 
About  the  Western  prairies: 

Where  the  beef  you  eat  does  grow ; 
Where  the  horses  they  run  wild 

With  the  mountain-sheep  and  ram; 
And  the  cow-boy  sleeps  contented 

On  the  grass  of  Uncle  Sam. 

We  go  out  onto  the  round-up 

To  brand  the  sucking  calf. 
The  stranger  gets  the  bucking  horse 

(You  bet  then  we  all  laugh). 
He  flings  his  arms  towards  the  sky, 

His  legs  get  in  a  jam  ; 
He  turns  a  flying  somersault 

On  the  grass  of  Uncle  Sam. 

The  angry  bull  takes  after  us 
With  blood  in  both  his  eyes  ; 

We  run,  but  when  his  back  is  turned 
He  gets  a  big  surprise. 
270 


A  BRONCHO  BUSTER. 

Our  ropes  jerk  out  his  legs  behind 

And  he  goes  down  kerslam  ! 
We  drag  the  fighting  out  of  him 

On  the  grass  of  Uncle  Sam. 

The  horse-thief  comes  along  at  night 

To  steal  our  ponies  true 
We're  always  looking  out  for  him, 

And  sometimes  get  him,  too. 
We  ask  him  if  he's  ready 

And  when  he  says  "I  am,  " 
The  bottoms  of  his  feet  they  itch 

For  the  grass  of  Uncle  Sam. 

And  when  the  round-up  's  over 

To  town  we  go  for  fun. 
The  dollars  we  have  hoarded  up 

Are  blown  in,  every  one. 
Then  broke,  we  hit  the  trail  for  camp 

But  we  don't  care  a .\ 

Wages  are  good  when  the  grass  is  good,    \. 

The  grass  of  Uncle  Sam. 


By  the  time  the  singer  was  half-way  through 

most  of  the  impromptu  audience  were  singing 

the  familiar  air  too.     Their  voices  were  none  too 

sweet  or  soft,  for  the  icy  blasts  of  winter  and  the 

271 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

dust-laden  breezes  of  summer  did  not  tend  to  im- 
prove them;  but  it  was  with  a  right  good  will  that 
they  applauded  Frank  when  he  finished.  The 
song  over,  the  talk  began  again,  quietly,  with 
long  pauses,  while  this  man  puffed  his  pipe  or 
that  rolled  a  cigarette.  The  light  had  entirely 
gone  out  of  the  sky  now,  and  only  the  dim  glow 
of  the  shack  lamp  through  the  open  door  showed 
one  man  to  the  other. 

"  Well,  kid,  think  you  can  tame  the  buck- 
skin? "  drawled  Jerry  lazily. 

"  Sure — after  a  fashion.  '  Lite  '  '11  never  be 
an  easy  thing;  he's  got  too  much  life  in  him,  but 
we  have  got  to  know  each  other  pretty  well  now 
and  we'll  get  along  all  right." 

"  You  get  that  little  horse  sc's  you  can  ride 
him  and  you'll  have  the  best  pony  goin'."  Matt 
spoke  with  conviction. 

The  talk  grew  more  and  more  disjointed,  and 
finally  stopped  altogether.  Then  one  by  one 
the  men  stalked  without  a  word  into  the  cabin, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  all  hands  were  drinking  in 
the  sleep  as  only  thoroughly  tired,  healthy  men 
can. 


273 


CHAPTER   XYII. 

A    COW-PUNCHER    IN    EARNEST. 

The  round-up  was  now  at  hand — that  great  ac- 
count of  "  stock  taking,"  literally,  the  closing  of 
the  year's  books  as  it  were,  on  the  cattle  range. 
At  its  conclusion  the  ranchman  would  know 
whether  the  previous  winter's  storms  and  cold 
had  allowed  him  any  increase  or  not.  The  cattle 
roam  at  will  over  great  tracts  of  country  bounded 
only  by  watercourses  and  the  wire  fences  along 
the  railways;  the  herds  of  one  ranchman  mingle 
with  those  of  another,  and  only  during  the  round- 
up are  they  separated  and  the  calves  marked  with 
their  respective  owners'  brands. 

The  date  of  the  round-up  is  fixed  beforehand 
and  all  the  details  arranged,  so  that  when  the  day 
arrives  every  man  is  ready  to  take  the  field.  As 
several  owners  have  cattle  on  the  range,  each 
sends  his  quota  of  cowboys  to  do  the  riding,  and 
all  work  together  under  a  general  head  or  round- 
up boss. 

The  Sun  River  Ranch  had  perhaps  the  largest 
18  273 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

number  of  cattle  out,  and  its  outfit  consisted  of 
twenty-five  men,  with  two  cook  wagons  and  sev- 
eral other  vehicles  to  carry  beds  and  various 
necessaries. 

The  morning  of  May  25th,  the  day  set  for  the 
rendezvous  of  the  round-up,  was  as  near  per- 
fect as  one  could  wish.  With  the  first  streak  of 
light  in  the  east  all  hands  were  routed  out,  and 
after  a  hasty  breakfast,  everyone  at  once  set 
about  making  the  last  preparations  to  take  the 
field.  Some  helped  the  cooks  load  up  their 
wagons  and  pack  the  utensils;  some  were  busy 
piling  the  beds  into  their  places,  and  the  rest 
were  occupied  with  their  own  riding  outfits  or 
looking  after  the  large  saddle  band. 

It  was  a  gay  crowd;  you  would  have  thought 
it  was  a  gang  of  boys  off  for  a  swim  instead  of  a 
party  of  men  bound  on  a  very  serious  undertak- 
ing, accompanied,  as  it  was  sure  to  be,  with  a 
good  deal  of  danger  and  no  end  of  hard  work 
and  privation. 

John  was  in  the  thick  of  it,  looking  after  the 
horses  he  had  helped  to  break.  Of  these  there 
were  a  goodly  number,  for  from  six  to  eight  were 
required  for  each  man.  He  noted  with  pride 
that  "Lite's"  bruises  had  entirely  healed  and  that 
his  bones  were  almost  wholly  hidden  by  the  firm 
flesh  and  muscle  he  had  gained  under  his  new 
274 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

master's  watchful  care.  The  boy  was  to  be  one 
of  the  gang  that  represented  the  Sun  River 
Ranch,  and  he  looked  forward  to  the  round-up 
as  an  opportunity  to  show  what  was  in  him. 

At  last  the  procession  was  ready  to  move,  and 
amid  a  chorus  of  "  so  longs  "  to  those  left  behind, 
the  shouts  of  men,  the  whinny  of  horses,  the  rat- 
tle and  bang  of  wagons  and  cooking  utensils,  the 
snapping  of  whips,  and  the  beating  of  hoofs,  it 
started. 

Little  time  was  wasted  in  making  the  journey 
to  the  camping  place,  for  all  were  anxious  to  get 
to  work.  At  this  time,  men  gathered  together 
from  widely  separated  points,  acquaintanceship 
was  renewed  and  gossip  exchanged.  The  fol- 
lowing morning  found  them  at  the  appointed 
camping  ground  in  convenient  proximity  to  a 
stream,  and  at  about  the  centre  of  the  terri- 
tory which  it  was  proposed  to  sweep  clean  of 
cattle.  Already  the  triangle  bar  ( A_)  and  the 
M  T  outfits  had  arrived;  their  cook  wagons  were 
unpacked  and  their  fires  built.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  Sun  River  boys,  called  the  Three  X 
outfit,  from  their  brand  (XXX),  were  likewise 
settled.  The  settling  in  order  was  not  a  very 
elaborate  proceeding ;  there  were  no  carpets  to  be 
laid — "  the  grass  of  Uncle  Sam  "  served  that  pur- 
pose admirably — the  bric-a-brac  consisting  of 
275 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

saddles,  bridles,  and  some  harness,  which  was 
slung  carelessly  on  the  ground;  and  the  furni- 
ture, if  the  rolled-up  blanket  beds  could  be  called 
such  (and  there  was  no  other),  were  left  in  the 
wagons  till  wanted. 

A  hole  a  foot  or  so  deep  and  a  few  feet  in  diam- 
eter was  dug  in  the  ground  to  hold  the  fire  and  at 
the  same  time  prevent  it  from  spreading  to  the 
surrounding  prairie — a  thing  to  be  dreaded.  The 
tail  of  the  cook's  wagon  was  let  down,  thus  form- 
ing a  sort  of  table  and  disclosing  a  cupboard  ar- 
rangement. An  awning  was  spread  over  the 
whole  and  it  was  ready  for  business. 

As  soon  as  these  arrangements  were  completed 
the  men  broke  up  into  little  groups,  renewing  old 
friendships  and  exchanging  the  bits  of  news  that 
one  or  the  other  had  learned.  John  hung  round 
the  cook's  wagon,  making  friends  with  that  im- 
portant individual.  He  was  no  poor  hand  with 
the  frying-pan  himself,  and  the  appreciation  of 
the  cook's  efforts  soon  won  over  this  personage. 

"  Well,  Billy,"  John  was  saying,  "  you'll  be 
kept  pretty  busy  this  trip,  I  guess." 

"Yes,  it'll  be  no  easy  thing,"  he  answered. 
"  It's  a  big  round-up,  and  it's  so  terrible  dry  for 
this  time  of  year  and  so  dusty  that  the  boys'll  be 
weary  and  lookin'  for  trouble — and  it'll  all  come 
back  on  me." 

276 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,"  said  John  consolingly,  as 
he  walked  about,  kicking  the  tufted  buffalo  grass 
and  swishing  his  quirt  about  aimlessly.  "  I  tell 
you  what,  Billy,  it  wouldn't  take  much  to  start 
a  fire  in  this  "-—he  slapped  the  grass  with  his  lash. 
"  With  a  wind  like  this  we'd  have  a  blaze  in  a 

minute  that  would  be  harder  to  stop  than 

Lookout!  " 

John  rushed  over  to  the  shallow  firepit,  shout- 
ing warnings  as  he  ran,  and  began  stamping 
down  the  thin  edge  of  fire  that  was  eating  its 
way  into  the  bone-dry  grass.  While  the  two  were 
talking,  a  gust  of  wind  had  blown  a  brand  out  of 
the  pit  and  into  the  tinder-like  hay.  John  kept 
stamping  frantically,  and  in  an  instant  Billy  had 
joined  him  and  was  also  vigorously  engaged  in 
crushing  out  the  dreaded  flames.  They  both 
shouted  lustily,  and  soon  a  number  of  the  punch- 
ers, seeing  the  thin  smoke  and  realizing  the  dan- 
ger, came  over  to  help. 

Fire  is  perhaps  the  thing  of  all  others  that  the 
plainsman  dreads;  a  prairie  blaze  once  fairly 
started  and  sweeping  over  an  expanse  of  territory 
is  almost  impossible  to  stop,  and  there  is  nothing 
to  do  but  run  before  it ;  man  and  beast,  tame  and 
wild,  flee  from  it.  Only  charred  and  blackened 
ashes  lie  behind  the  swiftly  advancing  thin  line 
of  flame. 

277 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

All  this  came  into  the  minds  of  the  men  as  they 
tramped  on  the  red  tongues  of  flame  that  lapped 
ever  further  along  and  around.  There  was  no 
time  to  plough  round  (even  if  such  an  aid  as  a 
plough  could  be  had)  and  so  check  the  fire  by 
turning  under  what  it  fed  upon.  Soon  it  was 
seen  that  it  would  take  more  than  the  trampling 
of  men's  feet  to  put  it  out,  and  a  line  was  started 
down  the  creek  with  buckets.  Then  blankets  and 
gunny  sacks  were  wet  and  beaten  against  the 
flames. 

The  smoke  choked  and  blinded,  and  the  heat 
was  almost  unbearable,  but  the  men  kept  the 
blankets  going  until  the  spiteful  red  tongues 
drew  back  defeated,  and  died.  It  was  a  hard 
fight  fer  a  couple  of  hours,  and  when  it  was  over 
those  who  took  part  were  hardly  recognizable — 
faces  blackened  and  eyes  reddened  by  smoke, 
hair,  beards,  and  mustaches  singed. 

John,  who  had  drawn  his  smoke-begrimed 
fingers  over  his  cheeks  and  forehead,  was  a  sight ; 
Frank  saw  him  thus  and  said  he  looked  like  a 
cross  between  a  tiger  and  an  ourang  outang. 

For  a  day  or  two  after  all  the  outfits  came  into 
camp  the  time  was  spent  in  organizing  the  round- 
up and  planning  the  campaign.  The  ranchmen 
or  foremen,  as  the  case  might  be,  were  extremely 
busy  during  this  time,  but  for  once  the  punchers 
278 


ROPKD. 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

were  at  liberty  to  do  as  they  pleased.  All  sorts 
of  cowboy  sports  were  indulged  in;  horse-racing 
(where  "  Lite,"  like  Baldy,  generally  came  out 
ahead,  under  John's  understanding  jockeyship), 
rope-throwing,  and  feats  of  horsemanship.  What 
to  an  Easterner  would  appear  impossibilities 
were  commonplace  acts  of  good  riding  for  a  cow- 
puncher.  Picking  up  a  hat  from  the  ground 
while  riding  at  full  speed  was  a  feat  of  good  but 
not  at  all  extraordinary  riding. 

The  men  were  full  of  life  and  energy — sky- 
larking was  going  on  continually.  It  was  no 
place  for  the  seeker  of  peace  and  quietness;  the 
air  was  filled  with  cowboy  yells  and  shouts  of 
laughter.  The  unwary  one,  afoot  or  on  horse- 
back, was  likely  to  hear  a  sudden  swish  and  in  a 
second  find  himself  hugging  mother  earth  and 
acting  as  if  he  was  trying  to  pull  a  peg  with  his 
teeth,  the  result  of  some  rope  throwing  in  his 
rear. 

As  evening  draws  near  the  word  is  passed  that 
"  real  work  will  begin  to-morrow,"  and  all  hands 
quiet  down,  realizing  that  they  will  need  all  the 
strength  that  rest  can  give  them.  Soon  after 
supper  the  men  pull  out  their  bed  rolls,  spread 
them,  and,  using  their  saddles  as  head  rests,  turn 
in. 

The  Sun  River  round-up  is  in  camp.  The 
279 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

moon  beams  placidly  down  and  shows  in  high 
relief  the  white-topped  wagons  and  tents  huddled 
together.  Beds  are  scattered  here  and  there 
upon  the  ground,  and  from  each  comes  the  sound 
of  tired  men's  breathing.  Half  a  dozen  saddled 
and  picketed  horses  crop  the  grass  near  by,  and 
a  small  bunch  of  cattle,  guarded  by  a  single 
rider,  who  lolls  sleepily  in  his  saddle,  lie  a  little 
further  off,  their  heavy  bodies  appearing  strange 
and  shapeless  in  the  half  light.  A  coyote  from 
a  little  distance  barks  and  howls,  but  even  its 
voice  is  drowsy.  The  only  animated  sound 
comes  from  a  bell  on  a  horse  tinkling  as  he 
feeds. 

At  four  o'clock  a  little  red  spark  appears  near 
the  XXX  outfit  and  the  cook  can  be  dimly  dis- 
cerned moving  round  his  wagon.  Soon  the 
smoke  begins  to  pour  from  his  fire,  and  then  the 
cooks  of  other  outfits  also  show  signs  of  life. 
Tin  pans  and  kettles  are  heard  to  rattle,  and 
breakfast  is  under  way.  At  a  quarter  to  five  the 
cooks  begin  the  reveille  of  the  plains ;  dishpans  in 
hand  they  move  about  among  the  sleeping  men 
beating  an  awakening  call  neither  musical  nor 
poetic,  but  most  effective.  Between  the  strokes 
comes  the  long-drawn  cry,  "  Grub  p-i-l-e!  Grub 
pi-Ire!" 

Apparently  it  is  no  easier  to  rouse  up  from  the 
280 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

rough  couch,  knobbed  as  it  is  with  the  inequali- 
ties of  the  surface  of  the  ground  beneath,  than  it 
is  to  rise  from  "  flowery  beds  of  ease." 

"  Cow-punching  ain't  what  it's  cracked  up  to 
be,"  said  Jerry  grumblingly  to  John  as  they  lay 
near  a  XXX  wagon.  "  I'm  goin'  to  quit  after 
this  round-up  and  drive  a  horsecar." 

"  It  is  kinder  tough,"  .returned  the  younger. 
"  I  haven't  got  used  to  '  Lite's  '  prancin's  yet  and 
I'm  stiff." 

It's  the  privilege  of  every  working  man  on 
land  and  sea  to  grumble  at  the  early  getting-up 
time,  and  the  cow-puncher  takes  all  possible  ad- 
vantage of  this  immemorial  right.  They  obeyed 
the  summons,  nevertheless,  and  by  the  time  the 
night-wrangler  came  up  with  the  saddle  band 
Jerry  and  John  were  on  hand  with  the  rest  of 
the  punchers,  having  rolled  up  and  stowed  their 
beds  in  the  wagon.  A  rope  corral  was  drawn 
about  them  which  sufficed  to  keep  them  together, 
the  cow-pony  having  learned  the  lesson  thor- 
oughly not  to  run  against  a  rope,  even  if  it  is 
flimsily  supported.  Each  man  took  his  lariat  and 
flung  it  over  the  Lorse  he  wanted  to  ride  that  day. 
As  the  noose  tightened  round  the  neck  of  each 
horse  it  stood  stock  still  till  its  owner  came  up  to 
it.  Led  a  little  apart,  the  fifty-pound  saddle  was 
flung  over,  and  in  spite  of  more  or  less  struggling 
281 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

the  cinches  were  drawn  tight  and  the  heavy 
bridle  buckled  on. 

The  rush  for  the  mess  wagon  which  followed 
resembled  a  run  on  a  bank,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
the  clatter  of  tin  dishes  and  steel  knives  and  forks 
drowned  all  other  sounds.  A  tin  cup  of  strong, 
black  coffee,  a  slice  or  two  of  bacon,  potatoes 
swimming  in  gravy,  and  a  generous  chunk  of 
bread  comprised  the  bill  of  fare. 

With  plates  and  cups  filled,  John  and  Jerry 
go  off  a  little  way  to  a  wagon,  and  sitting  cross- 
legged  with  backs  against  the  wheels,  proceed  to 
put  away  with  all  possible  dispatch  the  food  al- 
lotted to  them.  In  a  few  minutes  breakfast  is 
over,  when  each  man  brings  his  dishes  and  throws 
them  on  the  pile  which  cook  is  already  busily  en- 
gaged in  washing.  Similar  proceedings  have 
been  going  on  at  all  the  different  outfits  at  the 
same  time,  and  soon  all  hands  converge  towards 
the  round-up  boss's  camp. 

John  and  Jerry  joined  the  gathering  crowd 
near  the  "captain's  "wagon  and  waited  for  orders. 
After  a  few  minutes  Kline,  captain  of  the  round- 
up, appeared,  a  stocky  man  with  a  gray  beard, 
slouch  hat,  and  greasy,  round-up  clothes;  chaps, 
flannel  shirt,  and  big  spurs.  The  crowd  quieted 
down  instantly. 

"  Barrett,  take  six  men  and  go  to  the  head  of 
282 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

Bar  Creek  and  rake  the  brush  like  a  fine-tooth 
comb,"  began  Kline.  Barrett  swung  into  the 
saddle,  and  picking  out  six  men  rode  off  with 
them. 

"  Haggerty,  take  six  men  and  clean  up 
Crooked  Creek;  Moore,  three  men  and  go  up 
Indian  Gulch,"  and  so  the  orders  went.  Each 
group  started  on  the  instant,  and  trotting  off, 
disappeared  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  Soon  all  the 
punchers  had  gone;  only  the  cooks,  the  horse- 
wranglers,  and  a  few  drivers  were  left. 

Jerry  and  John  had  been  sent  up  a  small  creek 
to  drive  in  all  the  cattle  they  found  in  that  sec- 
tion. The  head  of  the  creek  reached  (it  was 
about  fifteen  miles  off),  Jerry,  who  was  riding 
some  distance  from  John,  signalled  to  him  to 
turn  back  and  make  a  detour  so  as  to  get  around 
the  animals  ahead.  At  the  sight  of  the  riders 
the  wild  cattle  began  to  gather  into  bunches  and 
stare;  this  tendency  to  come  together  made  it 
much  easier  to  drive  them. 

By  the  time  they  had  driven  two  miles  a  con- 
siderable number  had  gathered,  which  increased 
as  it  moved  onward  as  a  snowball  gathers  bulk 
when  it  is  pushed  along. 

When  Jerry  and  John  reached  the  main  valley 
they  were  driving  perhaps  a  couple  of  hundred 
head  before  them.  Herds  were  pouring  in  from 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

every  direction,  and  soon  the  whole  valley  was 
filled  with  a  vast  mass  of  variously  tinted  ani- 
mals, their  horns  tossing  like  a  sea  of  tall  grass. 
Over  all  hung  a  great  cloud  of  dust  that  obscured 
the  sun  and  made  it  impossible  to  distinguish  a 
rider  the  other  side  of  the  herd.  "  This  is  fierce," 
ejaculated  John  as  he  tried  to  peer  through  the 
brown-gray  cloud  at  another  rider. 

"  A  cow-puncher  can't  live  without  dust,"  re- 
turned Jerry,  whose  face  was  covered  with  a  gray 
mask,  through  which  his  eyes  shone  in  strong 
contrast.  "  My  teeth  is  worn  down  and  my  lungs 
coated  with  it,  but  I  don't  mind  it  no  more.  Look 
out  for  that  cow  there !  " 

An  old  cow,  made  angry  and  brave  at  once  by 
an  apparent  menace  to  her  calf,  was  charging 
down  on  John  full  tilt — tail  up,  head  down,  eyes 
rolling — vengeance  in  every  motion;  for  a  min- 
ute it  looked  as  if  he  would  be  run  down:  the 
charging  beast  was  going  at  such  speed  that  she 
would  be  hard  to  avoid ;  but  when  she  was  within 
five  feet  of  the  boy's  horse  he  gave  a  quick  pull 
on  the  rein,  a  sharp  jab  with  his  spurs,  and  the 
clever  little  cow-pony  wheeled  sharply  round  and 
out  of  range,  the  old  cow  lumbering  harmlessly 
by,  her  own  weight  and  impetus  preventing  her 
from  turning. 

"  You  want  to  keep  your  eye  out  for  those  old 
284 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

cows  with  calves,"  admonished  Jerry,  "  they're 
looking  for  trouble." 

All  hands  were  now  busy  keeping  the  great 
herd  together,  single  animals  were  constantly 
breaking  out  and  had  to  be  driven  back;  some- 
times several-  would  start  at  once,  when  there 
would  be  some  pretty  sharp  riding  for  a  while. 

It  was  about  midday,  the  sun  was  blazing  down 
from  above,  the  dust  rose  in  clouds  from  below, 
lining  mouths  and  nostrils  of  the  riders.  Since 
six  o'clock  they  had  been  in  the  saddle  constantly, 
and  all  felt,  as  Jerry  expressed  it,  "  Plumb  empty 
and  bone  dry." 

The  herd  presently  quieted  down  somewhat 
and  allowed  the  men  to  eat  in  relays,  some  watch- 
ing while  others  fed.  It  was  the  briefest  kind  of 
a  meal,  but  it  sufficed,  and  in  a  half  hour  every 
man  was  ready,  mounted  on  a  fresh  horse,  for  the 
real  work  of  the  day — "  cutting  out." 

John  and  Jerry  approached  the  tumultuous 
herd,  a  swirling  restless  sea  of  backs  and  horns. 
The  din  was  tremendous ;  every  cow  lowed  to  her 
calf  and  every  calf  to  its  mother;  the  tread  of 
thousands  of  hoofs  even  on  the  soft  earth  caused 
a  heavy,  rumbling  sound  that  filled  the  air,  and 
above  all  was  the  sharp  rattle  of  one  horn  against 
another,  of  a  thousand  horns  against  each  other. 
Into  this  seething  mass  of  living  wild  creatures 
285 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

armed  with  sharp  horns,  and  the  tread  of  whose 
hoofs  was  death,  must  go  the  cowboy  and  his  in- 
trepid pony.  To  drive  out  the  cows  and  their 
accompanying  calves,  so  that  the  brand  of  the 
mother  might  be  put  on  the  offspring,  was  the 
cow-puncher's  duty. 

Jerry  and  John  were  as  usual  near  together, 
and  Jerry  as  usual  grumbling.  He  declared  that 
this  cow-punching  was  a  dog's  life  and  that  he 
\vould  surely  quit  it  after  this  round-up.  John, 
as  was  his  custom  of  late,  was  discoursing  on  the 
merits  of  "  Lite."  "  I'll  show  you  what  a  good 
cutting-out  horse  he  is  to-day,"  the  youngster  was 
saying.  "  You  just  watch  him."  Jerry  sud- 
denly rode  off  to  head  off  a  steer  that  had  broken 
out  of  the  bunch  and  so  stopped  the  boy's  talk. 
When  he  came  back  John  was  about  to  dismount 
to  aid  a  weak  calf  to  rise.  "  Look  out!  "  was  all 
Jerry  had  time  to  shout,  as  an  old  cow  with  horns 
like  spears  came  charging  down  on  the  stooping 
boy.  It  was  not  her  calf,  but  she  thought  it  was. 
John's  horse  had  become  startled  and  ran  back 
so  fast  that  he  could  not  reach  the  saddle  horn  to 
mount.  The  infuriated  cow  was  within  twenty 
feet  of  him,  the  cattle  hedged  him  in  on  every 
side  so  he  could  not  run,  and  he  reached  round 
for  his  six-shooter  as  a  last  resort.  He  was  about 
to  pull  the  trigger  when  Jerry's  rope  came  flying 
286 


A    COW-PUNCHER  IN  EARNEST. 

through  the  air,  settled  round  the  animal's  hind 
legs,  and  down  she  came  in  a  heap  just  in  time. 

"  You'll  take  my  word  next  time  when  I  tell 
you  not  to  dismount  in  a  bunch  of  cattle."  John 
said  nothing,  but  he  realized  that  it  was  a  pretty 
close  shave. 

Soon  the  cutting-out  process  began,  to  accom- 
plish which  the  rider  enters  the  main  bunch, 
selects  a  cow  with  a  calf  bearing  the  brand  of 
his  outfit,  and  drives  them  out  to  a  place  apart, 
where  other  riders  keep  them  separated  from  the 
main  bunch  and  from  the  similar  collections  of 
other  brands.  To  select  his  own  brand  from 
dozens  of  others  requires  a  quick  and  sure  eye  on 
the  part  of  the  rider,  and  to  follow  that  particular 
cow  through  all  the  turnings  and  twistings  she  is 
sure  to  take,  requires  great  cleverness  and  perse- 
verance on  the  part  of  the  horse. 

It  was  "Lite's"  first  experience  as  a  cutting-out 
horse,  but  John  had  full  confidence  in  his  ability 
in  this  as  in  every  other  branch  of  cow-pony  edu- 
cation. "  You  just  watch  him  " — this  to  Jerry, 
who  had  expressed  some  doubts.  John  and 
Lightning  rushed  into  the  sea  of  cattle.  Whether 
by  the  gentle  pressure  of  the  knees  or  remarkable 
knowledge  Jerry  knew  not,  but  he  saw  the  little 
horse  single  out  an  animal  and  start  it  out,  fol- 
lowing directly  at  its  heels.  It  turned  to  the 
287 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

left  sharply ;  Lightning  deftly  threw  his  fore  legs 
over  its  back  and  stood  in  its  path;  it  turned  to 
the  right — horse  and  rider  were  there  also. 
Through  the  herd  they  went  full  speed,  twisting, 
turning,  passing  through  lanes  of  cattle  so  nar- 
row that  John's  legs  rubbed  their  rough  bodies 
on  either  side ;  but  always  they  were  close  at  the 
heels  of  the  XXX  cow,  and  finally  they  drove 
her  out  where  Jerry  was  guarding  several  others 
of  the  same  outfit. 

"How's  that?"  said  John  breathlessly.  It 
was  hard  work  for  horse  and  rider,  particularly 
for  the  former. 

"  That's  all  right,"  Jerry  answered,  more  en- 
thusiastically than  was  his  wont.  "  He's  got  the 
making  of  a  good  cow-horse  in  him." 


288 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

A   MIDNIGHT    STAMPEDE. 

On  a  wide  flat  the  round-up  outfit  commenced 
working  the  big  bunch.  As  the  cutters-out  dart 
here  and  there,  whirling,  dodging,  and  following, 
the  small  individual  bunches  slowly  increase  in 
size,  while  the  main  bunch  correspondingly 
dwindles. 

John  and  his  Lightning  work  away  with  other 
riders  until  only  the  nucleus  of  the  herd  remains, 
and  in  five  minutes  this  too  has  vanished.  Each 
outfit  pauses  to  rest  a  few  minutes  before  the 
counting  and  branding  begin;  in  the  meantime 
Jerry  is  coaxing  the  fire  in  which  the  branding- 
irons  are  heating. 

"  What'll  you  give  for  the  buckskin  now? " 
said  John  with  pardonable  pride,  as  he  drove  in 
the  last  animal  bearing  the  XXX  brand. 

"  He'll  do ;  but  I  want  to  see  you  rope  with  him 

before  I  take  back  all  I've  said,"  answered  Jerry, 

"  He  cuts  out  pretty  well,  but  you  get  a  calf  on 

your  string  and  the  string  under  his  tail  and  he'll 

19  289 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

dizzy  you,"  and  Jerry  began  to  poke  the  fire, 
chuckling  the  while. 

"  Oh,  you're  jokin';  I  can  ride  him  now  with- 
out stirrups.  I  tell  you  he's  a  broke  horse." 

"  The  iron  is  hot  now,"  broke  in  Jerry,  as  he 
rolled  up  his  sleeves.  "  Let's  see  what  your  horse 
can  do.  Bring  in  your  calves." 

It  was  John's  duty,  with  two  other  men,  to  rope 
the  calves  belonging  to  his  ranch  by  the  hind  legs 
and  yank  them  along  the  smooth  grass  to  the 
branding  fire,  where  Jerry  applied  the  hot  iron. 
He  started  Lightning  on  a  run  to  rope  the  first 
calf,  eager  to  prove  his  horse's  ability. 

One  sleek  little  fellow  stood  on  the  edge  of  the 
XXX  bunch,  gazing  in  wonder  at  the  horse  and 
his  rider.  Doubtless  the  calf  thought  this  a 
strange  creature,  able  to  separate  into  two  parts 
and  reunite  without  the  slightest  inconvenience. 
John  went  straight  for  it  and  broke  off  its 
cogitations  suddenly  by  whirling  his  rope  and 
throwing  it  under  the  little  fellow.  The  calf 
started  and  jumped  into  the  loop,  and  John 
quickly  drew  the  rope  tight,  pulling  its  hind  legs 
from  under  it  and  throwing  the  little  animal 
heavily.  Lightning  was  checked  and  the  calf 
rolled  over  and  began  to  struggle  and  bleat 
piteously.  A  green  horse  is  nearly  always  fright- 
ened the  first  time  he  pulls  on  a  rope :  he  does  not 
290 


DRAGGED    IT    UP   TO    THE    FIRE. 


WHILE  THE    IRON    WAS   APPLIED.       (Page  292.) 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

understand  it,  and  Lightning  was  no  exception  to 
the  rule.  The  rope  touched  his  shifty  hind  legs 
and  he  kicked  out  with  all  his  might;  it  rubbed 
harder  as  the  calf  struggled,  and  the  horse  began 
to  whirl  and  plunge  viciously  in  his  efforts  to 
get  rid  of  the  line  that  scraped  his  sensitive 
sides. 

Fortunately  the  little  creature  got  loose  at  this 
juncture  and  escaped.  True  to  prediction,  the 
rope  got  under  "  Lite's  "  tail  and  now  the  fun 
commenced  in  earnest.  He  bucked  as  he  had 
never  bucked  before,  and  all  but  stood  on  his 
head.  The  other  outfits  stopped  work  for  the 
moment  to  see  the  sport. 

Lightning  fairly  foamed  in  his  rage  and  fear; 
he  bucked  continuously,  and  every  time  he  struck 
the  ground  he  gave  a  hoarse  squeal — shrill  and 
wicked.  John's  strength  was  sorely  tried;  but 
after  his  boasting  it  would  never  do  to  be  "  piled 
up,"  so  he  set  his  teeth  and  vowed  he  would  stick, 
no  matter  what  happened.  The  fury  of  the  ef- 
fort made  it  a  short  one,  but  it  seemed  to  John 
plenty  long  enough,  for  during  the  five  minutes 
the  saddle  was  like  unto  a  hurricane  deck  in  a 
raging  sea.  But  through  it  all  John  came  out 
triumphant.  In  the  words  of  a  bystander:  "  The 
little  horse  "bellered  and  bucked  and  the  kid 
never  pulled  leather  "  (did  not  hold  on  to  the 
291 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

horn  of  his  saddle).  Which  was  high  praise 
from  a  cow-puncher  to  a  cow-puncher. 

"  What'll  you  take  for  him?  "  called  Jerry,  as 
John  dismounted  to  untangle  the  rope  from 
"  Lite's  "  heels. 

"  Money  can't  buy  him,"  was  the  reply.  John 
was  bruised  and  stiff,  but  his  pride  was  not  broken 
and  his  faith  in  his  horse  was  undiminished, 
though  it  must  be  confessed  it  had  received  a 
severe  shock.  "  He'll  bring  that  calf  in  or  I'll 
kill  him  tryin',"  he  said  sturdily,  and  he  mounted 
<c  Lite  "  again  and  went  back.  He  found  the 
same  calf,  roped  it,  and  "  Lite,"  after  a  few  futile 
plunges,  dragged  it  up  to  the  fire,  where  he  stood 
with  heaving,  sweat-covered  sides  while  the  iron 
was  applied.  The  hard  lesson  had  been  taught 
and  learned  for  all  time. 

"  He's  got  the  making  of  a  good  cow-horse," 
admitted  Jerry.  "  But,  oh  Lord !  such  a 
making!  " 

The  way  John  worked  the  little  horse  that  day 
would  have  seemed  cruel  to  a  novice,  but  he  in- 
tended that  he  should  never  forget  the  experi- 
ence of  the  morning,  and  he  never  did.  The 
last  calf  was  branded  at  dusk,  and  by  the  time 
this  necessary  torture  was  completed  poor  "Lite  " 
was  about  done  up. 

The  bunch  was  allowed  its  freedom  for  another 
292 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

year  and  the  cattle  began  at  once  to  wander  off, 
the  old  cows  licking  the  disfigured  sides  of  their 
offspring,  the  calves  shaking  and  writhing  with 
pain,  failing  utterly  to  understand  why  they 
should  be  tortured  thus.  The  wound  soon  heals, 
however,  and  though  the  soreness  disappears  the 
scar  remains  always. 

The  day's  work  was  over;  the  coolness  of  even- 
ing succeeded  the  heat  of  the  day;  the  men 
stopped  work  and  rode  slowly  into  camp  by  star- 
light. 

John  and  Jerry  unsaddled  their  tired  horses  and 
turned  them  over  to  the  care  of  the  night  herder. 

"  I'm  dead  tired,  stiff,  and  sore  to-night,"  said 
John,  as  he  and  his  companion  hustled  for  cups 
and  plates  in  the  dish  box. 

"  It's  a  dog's  life,"  returned  Jerry,  taking  the 
cue.  "  If  I'm  ever  caught  on  a  round-up  again 
I  hope  they'll  tie  me  on  a  broncho  and  turn  him 
loose."  He  grumbled  on  as  he  sipped  his  steam- 
ing coffee. 

The  two  ate  heartily  and  then  strolled  over  to 
the  main  camp-fire,  where  perhaps  fifty  men  lay 
sprawling  upon  the  ground  smoking,  talking,  and 
resting. 

"Hullo,  there's  the  three  X  kid!  "  some  one 
shouted.     "  How's  the  legs,  kid?  "     "  How  d'ye 
like  astronomy?  "  said  another. 
293 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

And  so  the  bantering  went  round,  but  John 
took  it  good-naturedly  and  even  responded  in 
kind.  Soon  a  song  was  started,  but  the  men 
were  too  tired  to  listen,  and  the  singer  stopped 
for  lack  of  encouragement.  About  two  hours 
after  the  day's  work  had  ended  all  hands  were 
rolled  up  in  their  beds  and  asleep,  Jerry  ending 
this  first  day  on  the  round-up  as  he  began  it — 
grumbling. 

"  Cow-punching  is  a  job  for  a  Chinaman,"  said 
he,  dropping  off  to  sleep.  It  was  the  most  scath- 
ing condemnation  his  imagination  could  frame. 

This  was  but  the  first  of  a  succession  of  days 
much  alike,  some  easier,  some  harder,  some  full 
of  incident  and  narrow  escapes,  others  less  excit- 
ing. The  long  dry  spell  had  given  way  to  a 
series  of  rainy  days  that  were  harder  to  bear  than 
heat  and  dust.  The  wind-driven  rain  had  a  pene- 
trating quality  that  nothing  could  withstand. 
The  rider,  after  being  in  the  rain  all  day,  came 
into  camp  to  find  his  bed  saturated.  The  trying 
weather  affected  tempers,  not  only  of  the  men 
but  of  their  charges,  the  cattle,  as  well ;  they  were 
nervous  and  restless,  and  this  was  especially  true 
when  electricity  was  in  the  air.  As  Jerry  had 
said,  it  was  "  regular  stampede  weather." 

John  had  seen  small  bunches  of  stock  break 
and  run,  and  had  followed  them  over  ticklish 
294 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPfiDfi. 

country,  but  a  big  stampede  had  not  yet  been 
numbered  among  his  experiences.  He  had  often 
sat  listening  to  some  old  veteran  of  the  range  tell 
of  the  horrors  of  a  midnight  stampede,  when  the 
great  herds  became  an  irresistible  torrent  of  ani- 
mal life  driven  on  by  unreasoning  terror. 

He  knew  that  some  time  he  would  become  an 
actor  in  such  a  scene  and  dreaded  it  in  antici- 
pation. 

The  sky  was  threatening  when  the  riders  were 
sent  out  one  day  to  make  the  "  big  circle,"  as  the 
gathering  of  cattle  was  called,  a  week  or  so  after 
the  organization  of  the  round-up.  By  the  time 
the  bunch  was  collected  it  was  raining  heavily, 
and  at  intervals  hailstones  pelted  man  and  beast 
viciously.  The  bunch  was  large  that  day,  and 
as  the  storm  continued  the  ground  became  too 
slippery  and  the  cattle  too  crazy  to  attempt  to 
work  them.  Nothing  could  be  done  but  hold 
them  together  until  things  dried  up  a  bit.  The 
nervousness  of  the  cattle  was  such  that  this  re- 
quired the  activity  of  all  hands. 

John  and  Jerry  were  out  in  all  this  stress  of 
weather,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  older 
cowboy  was  almost  happy:  he  had  a  really  new 
and  good  chance  for  grumbling.  "  Even  a  coy- 
ote can  hunt  his  hole  and  keep  dry,  but  a  cow- 
puncher  has  to  sit  up  straight  and  take  his  medi- 
295 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

cine,"  said  Jerry,  almost  triumphant  in  his 
feeling  of  just  resentment.  "  The  worse  the 
weather  the  more  he  has  to  brave  it,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  If  I'm  ever  caught  on  a  round-up " 

"  That's  the  tenth  time  you've  said  that  to- 
day," said  John,  laughing  in  spite  of  his  own 
discomfort.  Jerry  made  a  queer  picture.  His 
long,  yellow  oilskin  slicker  reached  to  his  heels 
and  was  just  running  with  water;  the  felt 
hat  that  almost  entirely  obscured  his  woebe- 
gone features  dripped  water  down  his  neck.  He 
looked  as  forlorn  as  an  equestrian  statue  deco- 
rated with  cheap  bunting  and  paper  flowers  and 
thoroughly  water-soaked. 

Everybody  was  out  of  humor  and  no  oppor- 
tunity was  lost  to  register  a  "  kick." 

"  Say,  you  three  X  men,"  said  the  foreman, 
"  scatter  out  there ;  d'yer  take  this  for  a  conver- 
sation party? " 

"  The  horses  is  stupid  and  the  cattle  is  worst. 
If  I  don't  miss  my  guess  there'll  be  trouble  to- 
night. If  ever  I  get  caught  in  a "  Jerry's 

voice  died  away  in  a  mere  growl  as  he  rode  off 
to  his  post. 

Left  alone,  John  turned  his  eyes  to  the  sea 
of  backs  swirling  up  and  down  and  around 
like  an  eddy  in  a  troubled  sea.  Even  now  the 
half-crazed  animals  threatened  to  break  through 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

the  frail  line  of  men  and  scatter  to  the  four 
winds. 

And  still  the  driving  rain  continued.  A  night 
in  the  saddle  was  inevitable — a  dreary  enough 
prospect.  As  evening  drew  near,  flashes  of  light- 
ning and  peals  of  thunder  added  to  the  terror  of 
the  almost  unmanageable  cattle. 

"  Look  at  'em  steam,"  said  John  to  himself, 
as  he  noted  the  vapor  that  rose  from  the  acres 
of  broad  backs.  "  That's  bad,"  said  Jerry,  as  he 
came  within  earshot  on  his  beat.  "  Steam  brings 
down  the  lightning,  men  are  high  on  horseback; 
steel  saddles,  metal  spurs,  six-shooters,  and 
buckles  make  a  man  liable  to  catch  it,"  and  he 
disappeared  in  the  mist,  droning  out  as  he  went 
a  verse  of  "  The  Grass  of  Uncle  Sam  "  to  quiet 
the  cattle.  It  seemed  futile  to  attempt  to  soothe 
the  creatures  by  the  sound  of  the  human  voice — 
they  were  in  a  tumult,  and  the  slightest  thing 
would  set  them  off.  For  an  instant  there  was  a 
lull,  and  not  only  Jerry's  but  the  voices  of  other 
riders  could  be  distinctly  heard  singing  and  call- 
ing quietly  to  the  cattle. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  fearful  flash  directly 
overhead  and  streams  of  liquid  fire  seemed  to 
flow  in  every  direction.  This  was  followed  im- 
mediately by  a  tremendous  clap  of  thunder.  The 
effect  was  instantaneous.  Each  animal  seemed 
297 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

to  be  possessed  of  a  demon  and  rushed  headlong 
in  whichever  direction  its  head  happened  to  be 
pointed.  In  an  instant  the  orderly  herd  was 
changed  to  a  panic-stricken  rout,  and  the  riders 
were  swept  irresistibly  with  it.  The  lightning 
flash  was  blinding,  and  the  darkness  which  en- 
sued was  intense;  through  this  men  and  beast 
rushed  pell-mell  without  a  pause,  recklessly. 

John,  with  the  other  riders,  was  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  mad,  surging  creatures,  their  eyes 
rolling  in  a  perfect  frenzy  of  fear,  their  very 
breaths  in  his  face,  their  horns  rattling  together 
close  beside  and  in  front  of  him.  It  was  every 
man  for  himself,  but  even  in  the  midst  of  this 
frightful  chaos  the  cow-puncher's  sole  thought 
was  for  his  stock.  John  looked  for  a  bunch  to 
follow — to  follow  to  death  if  need  be,  but  if  pos- 
sible stop  it.  That  was  the  plan  in  John's  mind, 
but  it  seemed  utterly  impossible  of  fulfilment. 
There  was  no  bunch ;  each  animal  for  once  went 
off  on  its  own  hook  and  the  confusion  was  fearful. 

"  I'll  follow  one  then,"  said  John  to  himself. 
Then  to  his  horse :  "  Stand  up  now,  old  '  Lite.'  If 
you  fall  you're  a  goner." 

One  big  steer  alongside  ran  strongly,  and  John 
let  "  Lite  "  know  that  it  in  particular  was  to  be 
followed.  He  couldn't  be  seen  in  the  darkness, 
but "  Lite  "  could  smell  him  and  kept  at  his  flank. 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

Away  they  went  through  mud  and  sage  brush, 
over  badger  holes  and  boggy  places.  What 
lay  in  their  path  was  a  mystery,  but  "  Lite  " 
stuck  to  his  leader  like  a  leech.  There  was  no 
time  to  reckon  chances,  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible. 

As  vapor  forms  into  raindrops,  the  running 
cattle  began  to  draw  together  into  groups  which 
enlarged  momentarily.  John  was  now  follow- 
ing one  of  these  groups,  but  in  the  pitchy  dark- 
ness he  could  not  tell  how  many  it  numbered. 
As  pursued  and  pursuers  rushed  on,  the  smooth, 
rolling  prairie  was  left  behind,  and  rough,  broken 
country  was  encountered.  Up  steep-sided  gul- 
lies they  struggled  and  down  slippery  hillsides 
they  scrambled  after  the  terror-stricken  cattle. 
"  ISJow's  our  chance,"  said  John,  speaking,  as  was 
his  wont  under  strong  excitement,  to  his  horse 
and  patting  his  neck  in  encouragement  for  the 
supreme  effort  that  was  to  come.  He  spurred 
to  the  front  and  began  to  turn  the  leaders  around. 
He  struck  them  on  the  nose  with  his  quirt, 
slapped  them  with  his  hat,  and  yelled  at  them. 

Slowly  one  leader,  then  another,  turned;  others 
immediately  behind  followed,  until  the  leader 
caught  up  with  the  tail  of  the  bunch  and  round 
they  went  in  a  circle.  "  They're  milling  beauti- 
fully now, '  Lite/  "  said  John  to  his  horse  again. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO  COLLEGE. 

"  We'll  keep  'em  at  it  till  they're  too  tired  for 
funny  business." 

The  circle  gradually  slowed  to  a  trot,  then  a 
walk,  then  stopped  altogether.  The  cattle  were 
utterly  exhausted,  heads  down,  sides  heaving  and 
steaming. 

John  leaned  over  in  his  saddle  and  patted  his 
little  horse  affectionately.  His  feeling  was  one 
of  fondness  mixed  with  gratitude  for  the  pony 
whose  wiry  limbs,  sure  feet,  good  bottom  and  in- 
telligence had  carried  him  safely  through  a  diffi- 
cult and  dangerous  duty.  He  thought  of  what 
had  passed,  and  marvelled  that  he  was  alive.  To 
make  such  a  journey  amid  the  tossing  horns  and 
thundering  feet  of  the  cattle,  over  treacherous 
ground,  in  total  darkness,  seemed  an  impossible 
feat,  and  yet  here  were  horse  and  rider  covered 
with  mud,  saturated  with  water,  almost  unbear- 
ably weary,  it  is  true,  but  without  a  scratch. 
John  began  to  realize  the  danger,  now  it  had 
passed,  and  appreciated  the  fact  that  to  his  game 
little  horse  was  his  safety  due.  "  Lite  "  received 
the  caressing  pat  on  his  nose  and  the  words  of 
praise  his  master  gave  him  with  commendable 
modesty. 

The  cattle  were  willing  now  to  stand  and  rest; 
they  all  were  trembling  with  fear  and  exhaus- 
tion and  seemed  in  no  condition  to  continue  their 
300 


A   MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

flight.  "  Lite,"  too,  was  pretty  well  done  up,  so 
John  dismounted  and  unsaddled  him;  then,  after 
putting  one  blanket  over  him,  he  wrapped  him- 
self in  the  other  and  lay  down  in  the  mud  to 
sleep.  It  was  cold  and  sopping  wet,  but  John's 
inward  satisfaction  made  outward  discomfort 
trivial. 

The  hours  were  long  before  daylight — longer, 
the  boy  thought,  than  he  ever  knew  them  to  be 
before.  He  was  glad  enough  when  the  sun 
came  and  he  was  able  to  size  up  his  capture. 
They  numbered  fifty  head,  and  proud  enough 
he  was. 

"Lite"  was  feeding  near;  at  John's  call  he 
came  up  and,  without  his  usual  capers,  allowed 
himself  to  be  saddled.  The  two  started  the  bunch 
toward  camp — weary,  hungry,  sleepy,  wet,  and 
cold,  but  triumphant. 

"  My  first  stampede  and  back  with  fifty  head," 
said  John  to  his  horse.  "  Not  bad  work,  and  I 
couldn't  have  done  it  but  for  you." 

The  storm  had  spent  itself  during  the  night 
and  morning  broke  gloriously  fine.  John  and 
Lightning  kept  the  cattle  going  as  fast  as  their 
strength  would  allow,  which  was  all  too  slow  for 
the  boy,  who  was  anxious  to  show  his  work  to 
Jerry — his  chum,  his  friend  and  counsellor, 
Jerry  the  grumbler,  the  good-hearted.  He  knew 
301 


CATTLE  RANCH   TO    COLLEGE. 

that  he  would  appreciate  it,  though  he  might 
joke. 

As  the  bunch  appeared  on  a  little  rise  a  short 
distance  from  camp,  a  horseman  galloped  out  to 
meet  them  and  to  help  drive  them  into  camp. 
"  Hullo,  kid !  "  said  the  man,  when  he  got  within 
earshot.  "  You've  done  pretty  well;  biggest 
bunch  that's  come  in  yet." 

"  Oh,  I've  had  a  great  old  time,"  John  began 
jubilantly,  feeling  as  if  he  had  not  seen  a  human 
being  for  a  month  and  must  talk.  "  See  that  big 
spotted  steer  there,  leadin'?  Well,  I  follered 
that  feller  eight  miles  in  the  dark  last  night 
an'  he  set  me  a  red-hot  pace,  you  bet — but 
the  buckskin  here,"  patting  "  Lite's  mud- 
spattered  shoulder,  "  followed  him  close  all  the 
way." 

"  Well,  you  look  it ;  got  enough  mud  on  yer  to 
weigh  down  a  team  of  iron  horses." 

"  How  many  cattle  back?  "  asked  John. 

"  Only  'bout  half  the  bunch." 

"  That's  too  bad,"  sympathized  the  boy. 

"  That's  not  the  worst." 

The  man  stopped,  and  John  noticed  for  the 
first  time  a  peculiar  expression  on  his  face. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  said  he. 

"  One  of  your  men "  he  hesitated. 

"Well?" 


A  MIDNIGHT  STAMPEDE. 

"  One  of  your  men,"  he  repeated,  "  went  down 
last  night." 

"  It  wasn't  Jerry?  "  cried  John  anxiously,  hav- 
ing a  premonition  suddenly  of  something  dread- 
ful. "  Say  it  wasn't  Jerry!  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  Jerry."  The  man  spoke  the 
words  slowly  and  solemnly.  "  Horse's  leg  went 
into  a  badger  hole  and  the  cattle  trampled  him." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

AN   AWAKENING. 

It  was  a  terrible  shock  to  the  boy,  and  for  a 
few  moments  he  seemed  dazed  as  if  by  a  physical 
blow.  He  had  come  into  camp  weary  of  body 
but  light  and  gay  of  heart,  full  of  triumph,  sure 
of  a  half -chaffing  word  of  commendation  from  his 
friend  and  comrade.  But  that  friend  had  met 
a  horrible  death.  John's  heart  sank  like  lead, 
and  for  the  time  the  light  went  out  of  the  sky 
for  him.  There  was  no  joy,  no  sunshine,  no 
future — Jerry  was  dead! 

"  Where  is  he?  "  John  asked  of  the  man  who 
brought  him  the  sad  news. 

"  In  camp,"  was  the  answer. 

John  was  in  haste  to  go  to  his  friend,  yet  he 
dreaded  it  with  all  his  soul.  He  forgot  his  tri- 
umph, his  pride  in  his  horse,  his  weariness,  in  the 
one  thought  that  filled  his  mind — "  Jerry  is 
dead!  " 

"  So  Jerry,  great,  strong,  experienced  Jerry, 
on  his  big  bay  went  down,  and  I,  neither 
304 


AN  AWAKENING. 

strong  nor  wise,  am  safe  and  well,"  John  solilo- 
quized. 

In  a  minute  or  two  they  entered  camp,  and 
John's  first  question  was  "  Where?  " 

The  cook  nodded  toward  a  bed  outspread  in  the 
shade  of  a  wagon. 

Mr.  Baker,  the  ranchman,  was  there,  and  as 
John  reached  the  place  he  pulled  back  the  canvas 
covering.  The  boy  never  forgot  the  sight  that 
met  his  view.  Jerry  it  was,  certainly,  but  almost 
unrecognizable. 

John  sat  down  by  him,  overcome  by  his 
first  great  grief.  Death  he  had  seen  many  times, 
horrible  deaths  some  of  them,  but  none  had 
come  so  close  as  this.  Cook,  perceiving  his 
plight,  brought  him  a  cup  of  steaming  hot 
coffee,  well  knowing  that  it  would  put  heart  into 
him. 

"  Mr.  Baker,"  said  John  at  length,  "  he's  got 
to  be  buried  some  place  where  the  coyotes  can't 
get  at  him." 

"  But  it's  sixty  miles  to  the  ranch,"  objected 
the  ranchman. 

"  That's  nothing.  Let  me  have  a  team  and  a 
wagon  and  I'll  get  him  there." 

After  some  demur,  which  John  finally  over- 
came, Mr.  Baker  allowed  him  to  take  a  big  wagon 
and  a  four-horse  team. 

20  305 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

The  body  was  laid  in  reverently,  the  horses 
harnessed  and  hitched  up.  Just  as  John  was 
about  to  take  up  the  reins  Mr.  Baker  came  for- 
ward. "  I  guess  I'll  go  with  you,  Worth,"  he 
said.  "  Round-up's  most  finished  and  I  can  do 
more  good  at  home." 

He  climbed  into  the  seat  of  the  big  covered 
wagon  as  he  spoke;  and  after  tying  Lightning 
alongside  the  wheel  horse,  John  took  up  the  lines. 
The  punchers  stood  round,  hats  off,  their  weather- 
beaten  faces  grave  and  full  of  concern.  All  of 
them  realized  that  this  might  have  been  their 
fate.  Their  rough  hearts,  accustomed  as  they 
were  to  all  the  chances  of  the  dangerous  life,  were 
full  of  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  companion,  "who 
was  and  is  not." 

"  So  long !  "  they  said — a  farewell  to  living 
and  dead. 

The  whip  cracked,  the  leaders  jumped,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  the  white  top  of  the  wagon  sank 
out  of  sight  behind  a  rise.  The  sixty-mile  funeral 
journey  had  begun. 

For  some  time  employer  and  employee  sat  si- 
lent side  by  side.  John's  hands  were  busy  with 
the  four  fresh  horses  he  was  guiding,  and  his 
mind  with  the  real  sorrow  that  filled  it.  He  had 
never  known  Mr.  Baker  well;  that  familiar  rela- 
tion, unknown  in  the  East,  between  employer 


AJUT  A  WAKENING. 

and  employed  was  prevented  by  John's  absence 
on  the  range,  but  the  boy  was  grateful  for  the 
kindness  Mr.  Baker  had  shown  him. 

"  How  long  have  you  known  Jerry,  Worth?  " 
the  ranchman  asked  at  length,  touched  by  the 
boy's  grief,  and  his  interest  aroused. 

"  Since  I've  worked  for  you  only,"  was  the 
answer.  "  Some  people  you  never  take  to  and 
some  you  know  and  like  right  off;  Jerry  was  that 
kind.  He  always  stood  by  me  in  quarrels,  and 
many's  the  time  he's  stood  a  double  watch  'cause 
he  knew  I  was  tired  and  he  didn't  want  to  wake 
me  up.  Yes,  he  stood  by  me  through  thick  and 
thin." 

"  He  was  a  good  hand,  too,"  interpolated  Mr. 
Baker. 

"  He'd  have  divided  his  last  dollar  with  me," 
continued  John,  more 'to  himself  than  to  his 
hearer.  "  I'd  have  done  the  same  with  him." 

All  this  time  they  were  travelling  at  full  speed. 
The  four  horses  yanked  the  heavy  wagon  along 
steadily  over  gullies  and  ridges,  through  valleys, 
and  over  hilltops. 

A  couple  of  hours  passed  in  this  way,  during 
which  John  slowed  the  horses  down  over  the 
rocky  places  and  urged  them  forward  where  it 
was  smooth. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  money, 
307 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

Worth  ?  "  said  Mr.  Baker,  hoping  to  dispel  some 
of  the  sadness  that  hung  over  the  boy.  "  You've 
not  spent  much  this  year,  have  you  ?  " 

"  'Bout  three  hundred  dollars,  I  guess.  Jerry 
and  I  thought  of  starting  in  with  a  little  bunch 

of  cows  on  our  own  hook,  but The  glance 

that  John  gave  over  his  shoulder  into  the  wagon 
finished  the  sentence. 

"Did  you  ever  think  of  going  to  school?" 
asked  the  ranchman,  intent  on  his  effort  to  divert 
the  boy's  thoughts. 

"  No,  I  saw  a  dude  feller  one  time  that  had 
been  to  school  all  his  life  " — John  spoke  con- 
temptuously— "  and  I'd  rather  punch  cows  all 
my  days  than  be  like  him." 

"Why?  He  might  have  been  a  poor  specimen. 
My  son  would  have  been  a  lawyer  if  he  had  lived, 
and  I  wTould  a  great  deal  rather  have  him  one 
than  a  cow-puncher." 

John  shook  his  head,  unconvinced.  A  vision 
came  to  him  of  streets  walled  in  on  each  side  by 
buildings  so  that  every  thoroughfare  was  a  canon 
and  every  room  a  prison.  The  joy  of  wild  free- 
dom, fraught  though  it  was  with  danger  and  hard 
work,  tingled  in  his  veins. 

"  You  know  if  you  stay  on  the  range,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Baker,  "  it's  only  a  question  of  time 
when  you'll  be  stiffened  and  broken  down,  or 


AN  AWAKENING. 

else,  what  may  be  better,  you'll  be  caught  as 
Jerry  was.  If  you  keep  on  punching  cows  all 
your  life  nothing  will  be  left  behind  showing 
that  you've  been  in  the  world  but  a  pine  plank 
set  in  the  ground." 

For  a  time  John's  thoughts  were  as  busy  as 
his  hands.  A  new  idea  had  been  presented  to 
him — his  future.  What  would  he  do  with  it? 
He  loved  the  wild,  free  life  he  was  now  leading, 
and  up  to  this  time  he  had  never  thought  of  work- 
ing for  something  higher  and  more  lasting.  Mr. 
Baker  had  stirred  a  part  of  him  that  had  long 
lain  dormant — ambition.  His  plans  heretofore 
had  seldom  carried  him  further  than  a  few  days 
or  weeks,  his  sole  care  was  to  do  his  duty  and 
keep  his  job;  but  now  he  had  a  new  care — his 
future. 

The  horses  jogged  along  steadily  over  the 
rough  country,  their  driver  getting  every  bit  of 
speed  out  of  them  that  would  allow  them  to  last 
the  journey  through.  Most  of  the  time  Light- 
ning went  alongside  the  wheel  horse  contentedly. 
"With  particular  perversity,  however,  as  the  team 
was  passing  through  a  narrow  place,  where  there 
was  barely  enough  room  to  pass,  Lightning  began 
a  spirited  altercation  with  his  side  partner.  He 
shied  off  from  him,  pushed  him,  and  bit  at  him 
till  he  in  turn  retaliated.  For  a  time  John  had 
309 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

his  hands  full,  but  "  Lite,"  in  his  efforts  to  kick 
holes  in  the  unoffending  side  of  the  wheel  horse, 
got  tangled  in  the  harness,  and  so  stopped  the 
whole  business.  His  master  extricated  him  with 
difficulty,  and  "  Lite,"  instead  of  getting  the  pun- 
ishment he  so  richly  deserved,  was  petted  instead, 
whereupon  he  became  very  good  indeed  and 
rubbed  his  nose  affectionately  against  John's 
sleeve,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  I'm  sorry.  I'll  never 
do  it  again." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Baker,  after  they 
had  got  started  again,  "  that  a  fellow  that  could 
tame  such  a  wicked  brute  as  that  horse  was  a  few 
months  ago  could  master  anything,  books  or  any- 
thing else." 

"Oh,  I've  read  some  books,"  said  John  eagerly, 
"  and  I  thought  I  knew  something  till  that  dude 
feller  told  all  about  the  things  he  knew.  But 
that  chap  couldn't  ride  a  sway-backed  cow,"  and 
John  smiled,  sad  as  he  was,  at  the  thought. 

"  You  struck  a  poor  sample,"  the  ranchman 
responded.  "  He  saw  you  could  beat  him  physi- 
cally, so  he  tried  to  get  even  with  you  mentally." 

For  a  time  they  rode  along  in  silence,  the  boy 
busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  which  Mr.  Baker 
was  wise  enough  not  to  interrupt. 

At  length  Smith  Creek,  the  halfway  mark  of 
their  journey,  was  reached,  and  they  stopped  for 
310 


AN  AWAKENING. 

water,  rest,  and  food.  The  horses  were  unhar- 
nessed and  allowed  to  feed  a  while.  Thirty  miles 
had  been  covered  in  less  than  five  hours — thirty 
miles  of  diversified  country,  hill  and  plain,  rock 
and  mud.  The  road  was  not  worthy  of  the  name, 
it  was  merely  a  wheel  track  more  or  less  distinct. 

John  was  restless,  the  short  hour  of  relief  al- 
lowed the  faithful  beasts  seemed  long  to  him,  and 
he  was  more  at  ease  when  they  were  spinning 
along  the  trail  again.  He  had  been  living  on 
his  nerve  all  the  morning  and  the  strain  was  be- 
ginning to  tell. 

Soon  Mr.  Baker  began  to  talk  again.  He  was 
interested  in  the  young  companion  by  his  side, 
this  boy  so  filled  with  determination,  so  ener- 
getic and  forceful  and  yet  so  abounding  in 
loyalty  and  affection,  as  his  grief  over  Jerry's 
death  and  his  fondness  for  his  horse  testified;  this 
boy  who  read  books  and  yet  had  such  a  whole- 
souled  contempt  of  affected  learning  as  evidenced 
by  his  ill-concealed  disdain  of  the  Eastern 
"  dude."  "  You've  never  been  East,"  began  the 
ranchman,  "  or  to  school  ?  " 

"  No.  I  was  born  in  Bismarck,  North  Da- 
kota," was  the  answer.  "  It  must  be  queer,"  he 
added  after  a  pause,  and  a  smile  lit  up  his  tired 
face.  "  There's  lots  of  women  there,  they  say, 
and  the  men  get  their  hair  cut  every  month ;  the 
311 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

people  have  to  always  dress  for  dinner,  the  paper 
novels  say,  and  everybody  goes  to  school." 

Mr.  Baker  smiled  at  this  description  of  the  life 
and  manners  of  the  East,  and  kept  plying  the 
boy  with  questions,  put  kindly,  until  he  had 
learned  pretty  much  all  there  was  to  know  about 
him.  It  was  long  since  John  had  had  so  much 
interest  shown  him,  and  it  warmed  his  heart;  it 
was  specially  grateful  at  this  time,  when  he  felt 
that  he  had  lost  a  tried  and  true  friend.  The 
ranchman  advised  him  to  work  out  the  year  and 
save  his  money,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  doff 
his  cowboy  clothes  and  manners,  array  himself 
in  a  "  boiled  shirt,"  enter  some  good-sized  town, 
and  go  to  school  and  church. 

John  was  rather  dubious  about  this ;  "  muscle 
work,"  as  he  called  it,  work  requiring  a  quick 
eye,  a  strong  will,  and  the  ability  to  endure,  he 
knew  he  could  do,  but  about  brain  work  and 
book  learning  he  was  not  so  confident.  The  idea 
of  wearing  a  "  boiled  shirt  "  made  him  smile. 

"  Those  stiff-bellied  things  the  dudes  wear," 
said  he  derisively.  "  Me  wear  one  of  those 
things !  "  and  he  laughed  aloud  at  the  thought. 

Nevertheless  the  serious  idea  took  deep  root, 
and  while  he  did  not  make  any  promises  he  had 
a  half-formed  resolve  to  follow  the  old  ranch- 
man's advice. 

312 


AN  A  WAKENING. 

All  this  time  the  horses  jogged  along  more  and 
more  wearily,  and  requiring  more  and  more  urg- 
ing from  the  youngster  on  the  driver's  seat.  The 
last  ten  miles  seemed  endless;  it  was  all  John 
could  do  to  keep  the  team  going,  and  even  tireless 
Lightning  running  alongside  moved  unsteadily 
with  fatigue. 

They  were  glad  enough  when  the  ranch  build- 
ings appeared  dimly  in  the  fast-deepening  gloom. 
The  sixty-mile  drive  was  ended  at  last.  When 
the  wagon  entered  the  ranch  yard  John  almost 
fell  into  the  arms  of  one  of  the  men  who  had 
come  to  find  out  the  cause  of  this  unusually  late 
arrival.  It  was  Mr.  Baker  who  told  what  the 
wagon  contained  and  the  story  of  Jerry's  death. 

John  dragged  himself  to  a  hastily  improvised 
bed,  and,  dropping  down  on  it,  was  asleep  in  a 
twinkling;  the  first  rest  for  thirty-six  long  fa- 
tiguing hours. 

Late  the  next  day  he  was  awakened  to  attend 
Jerry's  funeral.  It  was  a  very  simple  ceremony, 
but  the  evident  sincerity  of  the  mourners'  grief 
made  it  impressive.  He  was  laid  away  on  a 
grassy  knoll  where  several  other  good  men  and 
true  had  been  buried  by  their  comrades.  A  rude 
rail  fence  enclosed  the  spot — the  long  resting 
place  of  men  who  had  died  in  the  performance 
of  their  duty. 

313 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

For  a  time  things  went  sadly  at  the  ranch,  for 
John  (he  did  not  rejoin  the  round-up)  missed  his 
cow-puncher  friend,  his  good-natured  grumbling, 
his  ever-ready  helping  hand.  But  gradually 
the  boy's  faculty  of  making  firm,  loyal  friends 
helped  to  fill  the  gap  that  Jerry's  death  had 
made,  though  no  one  could  ever  take  his  place. 

Mr.  Baker's  talk  about  school  and  a  future  took 
deep  root,  and  as  the  boy  turned  the  idea  over  in 
his  mind  it  developed  into  a  resolve  to  try  it 
anyway. 

Life  had  a  new  meaning  now  for  John,  and 
he  found  it  absorbingly  interesting.  The  work 
he  had  to  do  was  a  means  to  an  end,  and  the 
commonplace,  every-day  drudgery  became  sim- 
ply a  cog  in  the  machinery,  and  therefore  not 
only  bearable  but  interesting. 

The  boy's  success  as  a  breaker  of  horses  kept 
him  much  of  the  time  at  that  work.  Since  he 
had  broken  Lightning  all  other  horses  seemed 
tame  to  him  in  comparison.  It  was  part  of  his 
work  not  only  to  break  the  horses  to  the  saddle 
but  to  care  for  them  generally,  brand  the  colts, 
and  train  them  for  cow-pony  work,  as  well  as  to 
guard  them  by  day  and  night.  On  these  long 
day  rides  over  the  rolling  prairie  and  bleak,  fan- 
tastically shaped  and  colored  "  bad  lands  "  he 
would  take  a  piece  of  a  book  in  his  pocket,  and 
314 


AN  AWAKENING. 

when  an  opportunity  occurred  read  it.  He  read 
many  books  this  way,  tearing  out  and  taking  a 
few  pages  in  his  pocket  each  day.  Mr.  Baker 
was  fond  of  reading,  and  understood  the  value  of 
education ;  he  had  some  books,  and  the  less  valu- 
able ones  he  gave  to  his  protege;  these  and  the 
few  John  had  been  able  to  pick  up  from  outfits 
he  met  and  during  the  infrequent  visits  to  a  town 
formed  his  text  books. 

As  he  thought  and  read  and  studied  he  became 
more  and  more  convinced  that  cowboy  life  was 
not  for  him:  to  know  more  about  the  things  he 
had  read  a  few  scraps  about,  to  gain  a  place  in 
the  world,  to  learn  something  and  achieve  some- 
thing was  now  his  firm  resolve. 

The  summer,  fall,  and  early  winter  went  by 
quickly  for  the  boy.  Each  season  had  its  own 
peculiar  duties  and  dangers — the  round-up  and 
branding,  the  driving  of  the  steers  to  the  railroad 
for  the  Eastern  market  (a  serious  undertaking, 
involving  as  it  might  the  loss  of  valuable  cattle 
through  injury  and  drowning  when  fording 
streams),  the  cutting  of  hay  for  the  weaker 
cattle  and  horses,  and  occasional  hunting  trips  for 
fresh  meat.  And  so  the  year  wore  round. 

On  New  Year's  day  John's  time  was  up — the 
time  which  he  had  set  to  start  out  to  seek  his 
fortune.  He  had  saved  more  than  a  year's  earn- 
315 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

ings,  so  the  small  capitalist  saddled  Lightning, 
bade  his  friends  good-by,  and  set  forth,  not  with- 
out some  misgivings,  on  a  new  quest:  to  get 
knowledge,  see  the  world,  and,  if  it  might  be, 
grasp  his  share  of  its  honors. 


316 


CHAPTER   XX. 

A   TRANSFORMATION. 

The  love  of  adventure  that  possesses  the  soul 
of  most  boys  was  not  a  characteristic  of  John 
Worth.  An  adventurous  life  he  had  always  led 
and  thought  nothing  of  it;  it  was  too  common- 
place to  be  remarkable  to  him.  This  starting 
forth  in  search  of  knowledge,  this  seeking  of  the 
"  dude  "  and  his  ways  in  his  own  haunts,  was  an 
entirely  different  matter;  it  was  almost  terrify- 
'ing,  and  he  was  half  inclined  to  turn  back.  To 
mix  with  men  who  wore  white  "  boiled  "  shirts 
habitually,  who  dressed  and  went  down  to  dinner, 
and  who  did  all  sorts  of  things  strange  to  the 
frontier,  seemed  to  John  a  trying  ordeal,  and  he 
dreaded  it. 

He  had  no  definite  plan,  for  he  could  not  quite 
realize  what  lay  before  him.  A  cowboy  merely 
he  would  not  be;  he  now  felt  that  there  was  a 
larger  place  that  he  could  fill,  and  he  knew  that 
this  could  be  reached  only  through  education. 
317 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

A  sound  body  and  brain,  enough  money  to  last 
till  spring,  a  good  horse  to  carry  him,  and  a 
strong  resolve  to  get  somewhere  were  his  pos- 
sessions. 

For  ten  days  he  and  Lightning  wandered 
around  from  one  settlement  to  another,  from 
town  to  town;  he  was  enjoying  his  freedom  to  the 
utmost,  so  much  so  in  fact  that  none  of  the  towns 
he  passed  through  suited  him.  Finally  he  woke 
up  to  the  fact  that  he  was  avoiding  a  decision, 
and  he  pulled  himself  up  with  a  round  turn. 

"  Here,  John  Worth,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  you're  afraid  to  begin ;  any  of  those  towns 
would  have  done." 

He  was  in  the  open  when  he  came  to  himself, 
riding  along  on  a  good  horse,  dressed  in  a  com- 
plete outfit  of  cowboy  finery,  fringed  chaps,  good, 
broad-brimmed  felt  hat,  heavy,  well-fitting  rid- 
ing gloves,  and  silver  spurs,  the  envy  of  every 
man  he  met. 

For  the  second  time  a  storm  helped  to  decide 
his  destiny,  for  as  he  rode  along  the  sky  became 
overcast  and  soon  the  snow  began  to  fall  heavily. 
"  Come, '  Lite,'  let's  get  out  of  this,"  he  said  to  his 
only  companion;  and  heading  the  pony  toward 

the  place  where  he  knew  -  was  located, 

he  urged  him  forward.  Just  before  dark  he 

reached ,  and  after  finding  a  stable  put 

318 


A    TRANSFORMATION. 

up  at  a  neat  little  hotel  near  by.  Even  if  lie  had 
wished  to  go  on  to  some  other  place  he  could  not 
now,  for  the  storm  developed  into  a  regular  bliz- 
zard, which  prevented  man  or  beast  from  ven- 
turing outside  the  town  limits.  John  soon  turned 
to  the  hotel  keeper,  a  loquacious  individual  who 
believed  in  his  town  and  could  sound  its  praises 
as  well  as  any  real-estate  boomer. 

"  Schools? "  in  answer  to  one  of  John's  in- 
quiries. "  Schools  ?  Why,  we've  got  one  of  the 
best  schools  in  Montana;  higher'n  a  high  school! 
Schools  and  churches — we're  great  on  schools 
and  churches." 

He  took  his  cue  from  John's  questions;  he 
could  discourse  just  as  eloquently  about  the 
shady  part  of  the  town,  its  slums,  its  dives,  and 
dance  halls;  there  was  nothing  in  that  town  that 
should  not  be  there  and  everything  that  was  de- 
sirable— at  least  that  was  the  impression  this 
worthy  strove  to  convey. 

"  Schools  and  churches,"  said  John  to  himself. 
"  That's  what  Mr.  Baker  said  I  must  hitch  up 
to." 

For  several  days  the  blizzard  continued,  so 
long  in  fact  that  John  grew  restless  and  longed 
for  something  to  do.  He  had  about  decided  that 
he  did  not  like  this  town  and  thought  he  would 
move  on  as  soon  as  the  weather  permitted. 
319 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

One  day  the  landlord  was  declaiming  earnestly 
on  the  merits  of  the  town  and  its  institutions. 

"  Now,  there's  the  academy/'  said  he.  "  Now 
that  academy  is 

"  What's  an  academy?  "  interrupted  John. 

"  Oh,  that's  a  place  where  they  teach  you 
things." 

"  What  kind  of  things?  "  persisted  John. 

"  Reading  and  arithmetic  and  geography  and 
— here's  Gray,  he'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  he  goes 
there.  Henry,  come  here  a  minute,"  he  shouted. 

A  young  man  in  overalls,  well  sprinkled  with 
ashes,  and  carrying  a  fire  shovel  appeared. 

The  landlord  introduced  them  and  told  Gray 
that  John  was  looking  for  information  about  the 
academy.  Then  he  went  off,  leaving  them  to- 
gether. 

"  Well,"  said  Gray,  a  slight,  dark-haired, 
bright-eyed,  thoughtful  fellow,  after  some  pre- 
liminary talk,  "  you  begin  with  arithmetic ;  then 
comes  algebra,  then  geometry  and  trigonometry 
in  mathematics ;  the  languages  are  Latin,  Greek, 
French,  and  German." 

The  mere  recital  of  these  things  was  enough 
to  scare  John,  who  had  scarcely  heard  the  names 
before.  When  Gray  went  on  to  enlarge  on  the 
fine  course  of  study  the  academy  afforded,  as  a 
loyal  student  should,  his  hearer  was  appalled  by 
320 


A    TRANSFORMATION. 

the  amount  of  learning  necessary  even  to  enter 
a  school,  and  feared  the  ranch  after  all  was  the 
place  for  him. 

"  Some  of  the  fellows  are  good  workers,"  Gray 
went  on,  "  but  some  do  nothing  but  talk  to  the 
girls." 

"Girls!"  thought  John.  "So  girls  go  to 
school  with  the  boys  here."  This  boy,  who  had 
hardly  seen  a  girl,  was  terrified  at  the  idea  of 
being  brought  into  such  close  association  with 
them — he  was  quite  sure  now  the  ranch  was  the 
place  for  him. 

That  night  he  made  tip  his  mind  to  go  back  to 
Mr.  Baker  and  ask  for  his  old  job,  but  the  next 
morning  was  no  better  than  the  preceding  ones. 

For  lack  of  something  better  to  do,  after  much 
persuasion  on  Gray's  part,  he  went  with  him  to 
the  academy. 

The  things  he  saw  there  were  as  strange  to 
him  as  they  would  be  to  an  Esquimau. 

An  old-fashioned  school  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  students  seated  at  rows  of  desks,  the  boys  on 
one  side  of  the  room,  the  girls  on  the  other.  The 
principal  sat  at  one  end,  surrounded  by  black- 
boards. Gray  found  a  seat  for  John  at  the  back 
of  the  room,  out  of  the  range  of  curious  eyes,  and 
he  sat  there  and  watched  and  listened — wonder- 
ingly. 

91  321 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

The  classes  went  tip  and  recited  one  by  one 
or  demonstrated  mathematical  problems  on  the 
blackboards.  John  heard  with  amazement 
youngsters  answer  questions  which  he  could  not 
comprehend  at  all,  and  yet  he  noticed  that  their 
faces  were  care-free  and  happy,  as  if  they  had 
never  known  what  trouble  was.  The  faces  he 
knew,  young  and  old,  bore  distinctly  the  traces 
of  care  and  hardship.  He  was  intensely  in- 
terested and  enjoyed  the  whole  session  keenly. 

When  noon  came,  Gray  approached,  as  he 
thought,  to  return  to  the  hotel  with  him,  but  to 
his  surprise  he  was  marched  up  to  the  principal's 
desk  and  introduced  to  Professor  Marston.  John 
was  awe-stricken,  but  the  principal  knew  boys 
thoroughly,  and  soon  put  him  at  his  ease. 

"Will  you  come  with  us? "  asked  Mr.  Mars- 
ton  after  a  wyhile. 

"  I  wanted  to,  but  I  guess  not  now."  Some- 
how John's  resolve  seemed  rather  foolish  in  the 
presence  of  this  kindly  faced  man  with  the  high 
forehead. 

"  Why?     What  is  the  trouble?  " 

"  Oh,  I  changed  my  mind." 

"What's  your  reason?"  persisted  the  profes- 
sor. "  You  don't  look  like  a  fellow  who  changes 
his  mind  with  every  wind." 

His  manner  was  so  kindly,  his  interest  so  evi- 
322 


A    TRANSFORMATION. 

dent,  that  John  let  go  his  reserve  and  told  of  his 
ambitions  and  hopes  and  then  of  the  futility,  as 
he  thought,  of  a  fellow  at  his  age  beginning  at 
the  very  lowest  rung  of  the  ladder  when  boys 
much  younger  than  he  were  so  far  advanced. 
This  applied  not  only  to  actual  schooling  but  to 
all  the  little  things  wherein  he  saw  he  was  dif- 
ferent from  these  town-dwelling  youngsters. 

Mr.  Marston  was  interested.  He  invited  John 
to  call  and  see  him  after  school.  "  I  think  we 
shall  be  able  to  talk  our  way  out  of  this  diffi- 
culty," he  said,  as  the  boy  bade  him  good-by. 

At  the  appointed  hour  John  appeared,  eager 
to  be  convinced  but  altogether  dubious.  Pro- 
fessor Marston  received  him  cordially,  and,  tak- 
ing him  into  his  private  office,  talked  to  him 
"  like  a  Dutch  uncle,"  as  John  assured  Gray 
afterwards.  He  spoke  to  him  out  of  his  own 
wide  experience,  told  him  of  men  who  had 
worked  themselves  up  to  a  high  place  from  small 
beginnings  by  determination  and  hard  work. 
He  showed  John  that  he  believed  he  could  do 
the  same,  and  finally  brought  back  the  confi- 
dence in  himself  which  for  a  time  had  been  ban- 
ished. 

"  How  did  you  come  out  ?  "  called  Gray  as 
John  burst  into  the  hotel,  his  face  beaming,  his 
eyes  alight — confidence  in  every  gesture. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 


"  Bully !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  I'm  going  to  start 
right  in." 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk,"  said  his  friend,  de- 
lighted at  his  good  spirits. 

"  Professor  Marston  is  going  to  help  me,  and 
I'm  to  get  some  one  to  night-herd  me;  between 
the  two  I'm  going  to  round  up  all  those  things 
and  put  my  brand  on  'em.  I  mean,"  he  hastened 
to  explain,  as  he  realized  that  Gray  might  not  be 
up  on  all  the  cow-punchers'  phrases,  "  I  hope  to 
put  away  in  my  mind  some  of  the  things  that  go 
to  make  up  book-learning." 

Whereupon  Gray  volunteered  to  act  as  his 
night-herder,  as  John  called  his  tutor.  The  offer 
was  gladly  accepted,  and  the  two  went  out  to  get 
the  school  books  which  Mr.  Marston  had  recom- 
mended. 

John's  first  day  was,  as  he  expected,  an  ordeal. 


324 


A    TRANSFORMATION. 

He  was  sensitive,  and  it  tried  his  soul  to  stand  up 
with  the  primary  class — he  almost  a  full-grown 
man.    He  heard  the  remarks  spoken  in  an  under-  x  s*3 
tone  that  passed  from  lip  to  lip  when  he  stepped   ^- 
forward  with  the  youngsters,  and  he  would  have 
been  glad  to  be  able  to  get  his  hands  on  the  whis- 
perers and  bang  their  heads  together;  but  he 
only  shut  his  firm  jaws  together  a  little  tighter,  li 
clinched  his  hands,  and  drew  his  breath  hard. 

He  did  not  even  know  the  multiplication  table, 
but  under  Gray's  coaching  he  picked  it  up  very 
rapidly.  Mr.  Marston  made  everything  as  easy 
for  him  as  possible,  and  under  the  considerate  aid 
of  these  two  he  made  great  strides  in  his  mental 
training.  His  application  and  capacity  for  work 
was  tremendous,  and  the  amount  he  got  through 
quite  astonished  his  teachers. 

The  jeers  of  his  schoolmates,  however,  not  al- 
ways suppressed,  drove  him  more  and  more  to 
himself.  Gray,  Professor  Marston,  and  "  Lite  " 
were  his  only  companions.  "  Lite  "  was  now  liv- 
ing in  clover;  never  in  his  short  life  had  he 
imagined  such  ease,  so  much  provender,  and  so 
little  work;  he  was  therefore  fat  and  exceedingly 
lively,  so  that  when  John  was  astride  of  him  his 
master  was  able  to  show  his  schoolmates  his  abso- 
lute superiority  in  one  thing  at  least. 

As  he  advanced  in  his  studies  and  demon- 
325 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

strated  his  ability  as  a  horseman  and  a  boxer  (he 
soon  had  an  opportunity  to  show  that  he  knew 
how  to  "  put  up  his  hands  ")  the  respect  of  his 
schoolmates  increased — at  least  that  of  the  boys 
did — but  it  was  only  the  kindly  glances  from  one 
girl's  big  soft  eyes  that  saved  the  whole  of  girl- 
kind  from  complete  repudiation  on  his  part. 

John's  first  visit  to  a  church  was  an  event  that 
he  did  not  soon  forget.  It  was  at  Professor 
Marston's  invitation.  He  came  early,  and  as  he 
told  Gray  afterward :  "  The  millionaire  took  me 
clear  up  front.  My  clothes  were  stiff  and  my 
shoes  squeaked,  and  I  know  everyone  in  the  place 
was  looking  my  way."  The  music  was  strange 
to  him ;  the  only  thing  familiar  was  "  Old  Hun- 
dred," and  even  that  "  had  frills  on  it,"  he  as- 
serted. The  form  of  service  was  new  and  the 
good  clothes  of  both  men  and  women  oppressed 
him.  The  sermon,  however,  he  could  and  did 
appreciate.  A  sermon  was  the  only  part  of  a 
religious  service  he  had  ever  listened  to.  From 
time  to  time  hardy  missionaries  A'isited  the  cow- 
camps  and  sheep-ranches,  and  he  had  often  been 
one  of  the  congregation  that,  rough  though  they 
were,  and  little  as  they  appreciated  what  they 
heard,  listened  respectfully  to  the  good  man's 
sermon.  John  had  often  on  such  occasions, 
after  the  preacher  had  finished  and  gone  away, 
326 


A    TRANSFORMATION. 

mounted  on  the  wagon  tongue  and  repreached 
the  sermon,  using  his  own  words  but  the  same 
ideas.  He  was  therefore  able  to  appreciate  and 
enjoy  this  sermon  preached  in  what  seemed  to 
him  a  most  elaborate  house  of  worship.  This 
was  his  first  attendance  at  a  "  fancy  church,"  and 
it  was  the  last  open  one  for  a  long  time.  In  the 
evening  he  was  wont  to  steal  in,  in  time  to  hear 
the  sermon,  he  excusing  himself  thus :  "  I  can't 
do  it  all  at  once;  I'll  have  to  learn  their  ways 
first." 

The  dinner  at  Professor  Marston's  which  fol- 
lowed his  first  church-going  was  a  red-letter  oc- 
casion of  another  kind.  John's  earnestness  and 
sincerity  always  made  friends  for  him,  and  he 
speedily  won  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Marston.  She 
took  great  interest  in  the  boy  and  gave  him  many 
hints  as  to  the  ways  of  civilized  life,  so  tactfully 
that  he  could  feel  only  gratitude. 

He  left  her  home  full  of  content;  he  had  dis- 
covered a  new  phase  of  life — to  him  a  heretofore 
closed  book — the  "  home  beautiful." 

John  Worth  was  a  good  student,  a  hard,  con- 
scientious worker,  and  with  the  aid  of  his  friend 
Gray  and  his  instructor  he  made  more  and  more 
rapid  progress.  As  spring  advanced,  he  began  to 
hear  talk  about  "  vacation  " — a  word  the  mean- 
ing of  which  was  strange  to  him. 
827 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

When  lie  found  out  what  it  was  he  wondered 
what  new  wrinkle  would  be  "  sprung  "  on  him 
next.  But  it  was  a  serious  thing  to  him;  he 
could  not  afford  to  stay  in  town  and  do  nothing 
— he  wanted  to  keep  on  with  his  work. 

Professor  Marston  called  him  into  his  office 
just  before  school  closed,  and  after  learning  of 
his  difficulty  suggested  that  he  get  a  job  during 
the  summer  and  come  back  to  school  in  the  fall, 
when  he  would  give  him  work  that  would  pay  his 
necessary  expenses  while  he  kept  on  with  studies. 
John's  heart  was  filled  with  gratitude,  but  his 
benefactor  would  not  listen  to  his  thanks,  and 
bade  him  good-by  and  good  luck. 

The  boy  went  away  thinking  he  was  indeed  in 
luck.  The  only  trouble  was  to  secure  a  job  for 
the  summer.  This  problem  was  speedily  solved 
by  Gray,  who  proposed  that  they  should  try  to 
join  a  party  of  tourists  that  were  to  visit  Yellow- 
stone Park,  and  act  as  guides  and  guards.  To 
their  great  joy  they  were  able  to  accomplish  this, 
and  soon  after  the  commencement  festivities  they 
rode  out  with  the  tourist  outfit.  John  always 
had  pleasure  in  remembering  one  of  the  number, 
a  fearless,  undaunted  rider  who  won  his  admira- 
tion then,  and  still  more  later,  when  he  became 
Colonel  Roosevelt  of  the  "  Rough  Riders."  John 
in  his  old  cowboy  dress  and  mounted  on  Light- 
328 


A   TRANSFORMATION. 

ning  was  happy  enough;  as  for  the  horse,  he 
fairly  bubbled  over  with  joy  and  gladness.  He 
showed  it  in  his  usual  unconventional  fashion 
by  trying  to  throw  John  "  into  the  middle  of  next 
week,"  but  his  master  understood  him  well  and 
took  all  his  pranks  good-naturedly,  sitting  in  the 
saddle  as  if  it  was  an  every-day  occurrence  and 
not  worth  bothering  about. 

The  boy's  leech-like  riding  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  his  employers  at  once  and  especially  one 
— a  young  Easterner  named  Sherman,  who  was 
a  college  man. 

The  summer's  experience  was  a  very  pleasant 
one;  compared  to  the  work  and  hardship  that 
John  had  formerly  endured  this  was  child's  play. 

On  the  long  summer  evenings  young  Sherman 
would  often  join  John  while  he  was  keeping  his 
vigil  over  the  saddle  stock,  and  they  would  have 
long  talks,  John  telling  of  his  experiences  with 
Indians,  cattle,  and  horses,  while  Sherman  m 
turn  told  of  college  life,  its  advantages  and  pleas- 
ures, and  the  hard  work  connected  with  it. 

Shortly  before  the  time  set  for  the  return  of 
the  party,  Sherman,  who  had  learned  to  respect 
and  like  John  greatly,  said :  "  Suppose  you  study 
hard  next  fall  and  spring  and  prepare  for  college. 
If  you  can  bone  up  enough  to  pass  the  examina- 
tions I  think  I  can  get  you  a  scholarship." 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

The  proposition  took  John's  breath  away,  but 
he  was  not  the  kind  of  a  boy  to  be  "  stumped/' 
and  when  they  separated  he  assured  Sherman 
that  he'd  do  "  some  tall  trying." 

The  party  of  tourists  among  whom  John  was 
soon  broke  up.  Sherman  went  East  after  exact- 
ing a  promise  from  John  to  "carry  out  that  deal." 

John  returned  to and  to  the  acad- 
emy, his  path  now  marked  out  clearly  before  him 
and  a  prize  worth  striving  for  at  the  end. 


830 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

TWELVE   HUNDRED   MILES   AWHEEL   TO   COLLEGE. 

The  academy  reopened  with  some  new  pupils 
and  many  old  ones.  John  shook  hands  with  his 
few  friends,  glad  to  get  back,  and,  with  firm  de- 
termination to  carry  out  the  purpose  that  now 
possessed  him,  started  to  work. 

Professor  Marston  kept  his  word  about  the 
winter  job,  and  John  was  duly  installed  as  janitor 
of  the  building,  with  opportunity  to  make  extra 
pay  by  sawing  wood  and  doing  errands. 

He  was  fully  occupied,  as  may  well  be  imag- 
ined, and  poor  Lightning,  though  sure  of  good 
care,  missed  the  companionship  that  both  he  and 
his  master  delighted  in.  John  foresaw  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  keep  the  horse,  and  he  finally 
decided  what  to  do  with  him.  He  would  give 
him  his  freedom. 

One  day  the  boy  took  him  out  on  the  prairie 
some  distance  from  the  town. 

"  Lite,  old  boy,"  he  began,  rubbing  his  nose 
and  patting  him,  "  we've  had  good  and  bad  times 
331 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

together,  and  we've  been  good  friends,  but  we've 
got  to  separate  now." 

He  took  off  the  saddle  and  bridle :  "  Take  care 
of  yourself,  old  boy." 

The  horse  looked  at  him  a  moment  inquir- 
ingly; then  curvetted  around  a  minute  in  high 
glee;  but  as  he  saw  his  much-loved  master  leav- 
ing him  he  turned  and  followed,  refusing  to  be 
cast  off.  "  Go  back,  Lite,"  John  commanded, 
waving  his  hat  to  scare  him.  "  Go  back !  "  But 
the  little  horse  refused  to  leave  him,  and  followed 
him  back  to  town,  where  he  was  taken  in  and 
petted  again.  John  was  touched  to  the  heart  by 
this  loyalty  and  affection. 

Next  day  a  stableman  took  him  out  among 
the  range  horses  and  dismissed  him.  This  time 
he  stayed,  and  John  never  saw  or  heard  of  him 
afterward. 

That  was  a  wrench. 

Lightning  gone,  John  allowed  himself  no 
pleasures,  but  instead  took  every  bit  of  work 
that  came  his  way,  whether  it  yielded  money  or 
knowledge. 

He  joined  the  Debating  Society  and  made  it  a 
duty  to  do  his  best  when  called  upon.  Toward 
spring,  as  wood  sawing  became  scarce,  he  took  to 
delivering  morning  papers  to  the  more  distant 
parts  of  town;  and  in  order  to  do  this  more 
332 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

quickly  he  hired  an  old  bicycle,  learned  to  ride  it, 
and  made  his  rounds  just  after  daybreak  on  that. 
So  he  was  able  to  get  back  to  the  school  house  and 
study  a  while  before  opening  up. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  do  it  all,  Worth,"  said 
Professor  Marston. 

"  Well,  I  couldn't,  I  guess,  if  I  didn't  have  a 
big  stake  to  work  for.  If  I  keep  my  present 
school  work  up  and  study  this  summer  I'll  get 
into  college  this  fall,"  and  John  told  him  of  the 
offer  Sherman  had  made  him. 

"  I  hope  your  friend  won't  forget,"  the  Pro- 
fessor suggested,  fearing  that  his  pupil  was  buildj 
ing  high  hopes  on  an  insecure  foundation. 

"  He  won't  forget;  he's  not  that  kind." 

"I  hope  not;  but  how  are  you  going  to  get 
there?  It's  a  long  way." 

John  looked  up  quickly:  he  had  not  thought 
of  that  before.  It  was  a  serious  question. 

"  I  don't  know;  but  I'll  get  there  somehow." 
He  spoke  confidently  but  he  was  much  perplexed, 
for  he  was  without  money,  his  clothes  were 
threadbare,  and  it  was  a  necessity  to  study  all 
summer,  with  no  chance  to  earn  money.  It  was 
certainly  a  question  that  could  not  be  answered 
offhand.  He  studied  over  this  matter  for  days 
and  no  solution  presented  itself.  Borrow  he 
might,  but  this  he  would  not  do  without  giving 
333 


CATTLE  RANGE  TO    COLLEGE. 

security,  and  of  security  lie  had  none.  He  left 
it  for  a  while,  hoping  to  be  able  to  think  of  a  way 
out  of  the  difficulty  later. 

Before  he  realized  it  Commencement  had  ar- 
rived, and  with  it  the  open  meeting  of  the  Debat- 
ing Society  at  the  Opera  House.  To  his  aston- 
ishment he  found  that  he  was  appointed  one  of 
the  two  orators  of  the  occasion.  In  vain  he  pro- 
tested that  he  was  busy,  that  he  was  unfitted ;  he 
had  to  accept.  "  Orator — Opera  House — Me !  " 
he  fairly  gasped  with  astonishment.  He  was 
rather  worried  about  it,  but  Gray,  whom  he  con- 
sulted that  night,  reassured  him. 

"  Don't  worry,  anyhow,"  he  advised.  "  Take 
a  subject  you're  interested  in,  write  out  what  you 
think  about  it,  boil  it  down  so  you  can  repeat  it 
in  twenty  minutes,  then  memorize  it." 

John  also  consulted  Beeman,  the  other  orator, 
who  said  he  was  going  to  speak  about  the  Chinese 
Question. 

"  Against  them,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  the 
other's  sharply  put  query.  "  That's  the  only  way 
to  please  a  crowd — take  the  popular  side." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  take  the  side  I  want,  and 
I'll  tell  'em  what  I  think  about  it,  too,"  said  John 
vehemently,  his  spirit  thoroughly  roused. 

"  Go  ahead,"  said  Beeman,  visions  floating  be- 
fore him  of  an  opportunity  to  hurl  his  thunders 
334 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

at  a  definite  champion  (and  an  inexperienced 
one)  of  an  unpopular  cause. 

John  set  to  work  on  his  speech  with  his  usual 
eagerness  and  energy.  His  heart  was  in  it,  and 
the  prospect  of  a  contest  of  wit  or  muscle  always 
stirred  him.  He  wrote,  rewrote,  cut  down,  filled 
in  and  polished  until  Gray,  his  friend  and  critic, 
pronounced  it  "  good  stuff." 

In  the  meantime,  he  not  only  kept  at  work  at 
his  studies,  his  duties  as  janitor  and  paper  boy, 
but  he  was  at  work  at  something  else  that  he 
thought  might  prove  most  important. 

At  a  half-mile  race  track,  a  little  distance  out, 
a  very  early  rising  citizen,  if  he  happened  to  be 
in  that  vicinity  at  daybreak,  would  have  won- 
dered greatly  to  see  a  half-clad  figure  on  an  old 
bicycle  go  flying  round  and  round  the  track.  If, 
overcome  by  curiosity,  he  had  waited  a  while, 
he  would  have  seen  the  same  figure,  neatly 
clothed,  appear  from  under  the  grand  stand  carry- 
ing a  bundle  of  papers  under  his  arm.  Then  if 
he  watched  he  would  see  him  mount  an  old 
bicycle  and  ride  off.  But  this  performance 
took  place  so  very  early  that  no  one  witnessed 
it. 

At  last  the  day  of  the  Debating  Society's  open 
meeting  came — the  day  on  which  John  was  to 
make  his  first  public  appearance.  His  speech 
335 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

was  complete,  memorized,  and  ready  for  delivery. 
He  spouted  it  for  the  last  time  to  Gray,  who  put 
the  stamp  of  his  approval  on  it  and  advised  him 
to  forget  it  all  till  the  time  came  to  speak. 

The  Opera  House  was  crowded  when  John  and 
Gray  reached  it,  for  the  town's  people  took  great 
interest  in  its  institutions,  and  of  these  the  acad- 
emy was  one  of  the  most  important. 

John  looked  out  from  the  wings  on  the  sea  of 
upturned  faces,  appalled. 

Beeman  came  first.  He  went  out  before  the 
audience,  cool,  self-possessed,  graceful,  and  de- 
livered his  oration  smoothly,  forcibly,  and  well. 
He  chose  the  popular  side,  and  the  audience  re- 
warded him  with  generous  applause. 

Then  John  heard  the  chairman  announce, 
"  Oration  by  John  Worth." 

He  walked  out  from  the  dimness  of  the  flies 
into  the  full  glare  of  the  brightly  lighted  stage, 
bewildered,  and,  without  any  preliminaries, 
began : 

"In  the  history  of  every  country,  however  just, 
however  good  or  great,  there  are  certain  pages 
besmirched  by  the  record  of  black  deeds  of 
wrong." 

So  his  carefully  written,  carefully  memorized 
speech  began.  As  he  stood  before  his  audience 
he  saw  nothing  but  the  pages  of  his  manuscript : 
336 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

he  felt  that  he  must  keep  his  mind  on  them  or  he 
would  be  lost.  .  He  followed  down  the  first  page, 
mentally  turned  it  over,  and  began  the  second. 
Beeman  had  touched  a  point  on  the  second  page, 
and  treated  it  in  a  ridiculous  way,  he  thought. 
His  concentration  was  broken,  and  he  began  to 
fear  for  the  first  time  that  his  memory  would  fail. 
A  dozen  lines  down  the  second  page  he  faltered, 
stopped,  and  stood  riveted,  miserable.  The  few 
moments'  pause  seemed  endless.  He  tried  to 
think  of  the  next  line,  next  page,  anything;  in 
vain,  it  was  all  a  blank.  The  pile  of  manuscript, 
a  minute  ago  so  clearly  before  his  mind's  eye, 
had  vanished,  and  he  stood  staring  at  the  crowd 
before  him.  Some  one  behind  tried  to  prompt 
him;  it  brought  him  to  life.  Beeman's  fallacies 
had  incensed  him;  he'd  tell  them  so,  and  in 
no  uncertain  way.  With  a  whole-arm  gesture 
he  mentally  cast  away  his  carefully  prepared 
speech. 

"  It's  wrong!  All  wrong!  "  he  said  intensely, 
and  with  conviction  in  his  tones.  His  own  voice 
electrified  him.  His  first  few  sentences  were 
mere  bursts  of  indignation,  his  tongue  went  on  of 
its  own  volition,  it  could  scarcely  give  utterance 
to  his  stirred  feelings.  As  he  went  on,  his  emo- 
tions grew  more  quiet  but  none  the  less  earnest. 
Constant  yodelling  to  cattle  for  years  had  given 
22  337 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

him  a  voice  which  carried  to  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  building.  He  had  carefully  studied  his 
subject,  and  now  that  he  had  regained  his  nerve 
he  spoke  his  mind  with  enthusiasm  and  vigor. 
His  arguments  were  well  chosen  and  his  language 
terse  and  to  the  point.  Stimulated  by  excite- 
ment, new  ideas  came,  and  he  uttered  them  with 
a  confidence  that  afterward  amazed  even  himself. 
Parts  of  his  own  prepared  oration  came  back  to 
him  and  he  spoke  it  as  if  it  was  impromptu,  with 
force  and  freedom. 

The  time  had  come  to  stop,  and  without  a 
pause  he  launched  out  on  his  original  peroration 
with  the  ease,  confidence,  and  fire  of  a  veteran 
orator.  The  closing  sentence  rang  out  clear  and 
strong :  "  Men  and  women  of  America,  let  us 
wipe  out  the  blot  from  this  page  of  our  country's 
history  and  make  her  in  truth  the  Land  of  the 
Free  and  the  Home  of  the  Brave." 

His  speech  over,  John  stumbled,  rather  than 
walked,  off  the  stage  to  the  street.  The  reaction 
was  great.  He  did  not  hear  the  applause,  the 
cheering;  he  did  not  know  that  he  had  aroused 
the  enthusiasm  of  people  naturally  prejudiced 
against  his  side  of  the  question. 

John  went  straight  to  his  room  and  to  bed,  but 
not  to  sleep — his  nervous  tension  would  not  allow 
that.  The  thing  uppermost  in  his  mind,  the 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

thing  that  worried  him,  was  that  he  had  forgotten 
his  speech — the  speech  he  had  so  carefully  pre- 
pared and  learned  by  heart. 

The  papers  had  to  be  delivered  in  the  morning, 
however,  and  a  certain  self-imposed  engagement 
at  the  racetrack  kept,  so  he  was  up  betimes. 

After  these  two  duties  were  finished,  he  rode 
down  the  street  to  discover  if  possible  the  depths 
of  ignominy  to  which  he  had  been  brought  by 
forgetting  his  speech.  The  idea  that  he  had 
disgraced  himself  still  clung  to  him.  Two  fel- 
lows appeared  right  away,  and  before  John  could 
voice  his  greeting  they  called  out :  "  Say,  Worth, 
you  just  ate  Beeman  up  last  night.  Are  you 
sure  you  wrote  it  yourself?  " 

"  He  doesn't  know  that  I  forgot  it,"  thought 
John,  who  hesitated  a  minute  before  he  answered 
aloud :  "  Of  course,  it  was  all  my  own." 

""Well,  it  was  a  rattling  good  speech,  any- 
how." 

John  thanked  him,  and  then  the  talk  drifted 
to  the  games  to  be  held  next  day,  and  to  the  bi- 
cycle race  especially,  where  the  winner  would 
receive  a  brand  new  up-to-date  bicycle  as  a  prize. 

"  That's  going  to  be  a  hot  old  race,"  said 
Searles,  one  of  the  two  students.  "  Every  pedal 
kicker  in  town  is  after  that  new  wheel." 

"  Yes,  that's  a  prize  worth  riding  for,"  and 
339 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

John  had  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  Searles  did  not 
understand  till  later. 

Several  times  that  day  persons  of  various  de- 
grees of  importance — among  them  Mr.  Haynes, 
the  financial  and  political  corner-stone  of  the 
community — stopped  John,  called  him  by  name, 
and  chatted  pleasantly  with  him.  Mr.  Haynes 
said  that  he  was  a  credit  to  the  school  and  the 
town.  So  John's  self-respect  began  to  come  back. 
His  good  fortune  was  dawning,  now  that  he  was 
making  preparations  to  leave  it  all. 

Field  day  came  clear  and  beautiful,  and  the 
crowd  came  en  masse  to  see  the  sports.  A  series 
of  well-advertised  events  were  to  be  run,  the  cli- 
max of  which  was  the  one-mile  bicycle  race. 
The  prize  wheel  had  stood  labelled  in  the  donor's 
window  for  a  week,  and  every  wheelman  and  boy 
in  the  neighborhood  had  gazed  at  and  coveted  it. 

The  early  events  were  well  contested,  and 
worked  the  spectators  up  to  a  fever  heat  of  in- 
terest. By  the  time  the  bicycle  race  was  an- 
nounced the  crowd  was  wildly  enthusiastic.  Dis- 
cussions as  to  the  probable  winner  were  rife. 

"  There's  none  of  them  that'll  beat  Tucker," 
said  one.  "  He'll  have  a  walk-over." 

"He  won't  walk  over  Bolton,"  declared  an- 
other. 

And  so  it  went,  till  the  contestants  appeared 
340 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

on  the  track.  Tucker  and  Bolton  were  the 
favorites. 

As  the  men  lined  up  at  the  stake  some  one 
remarked :  "  Why,  there's  "Worth,  with  the  old 
bike,  too.  He's  the  fellow  that  made  the  speech. 
I  thought  he  had  more  sense  than  to  go  out  with 
that  old  rattle-trap." 

"They're  off!  "  The  shout  went  up  as  the 
starter's  pistol  cracked. 

Tucker  jumped  to  the  front,  and  everybody 
cheered  him;  but  Bolton  was  near,  and  as  the 
riders  passed  the  stand  for  the  first  time  it  was 
seen  that  he  was  close  behind.  Following  Bol- 
ton's  rear  wheel  closely  was  a  strange  rider  on 
an  old  wheel,  whom  the  crowd  did  not  recognize 
at  first. 

"By  George!  It's  Worth,"  said  a  student, 
surprised.  The  men  swept  by,  closely  bunched, 
their  wheels  rattling,  their  legs  going  like  pis- 
tons, and  the  bodies  of  some  swaying  as  they 
exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost  to  keep  up. 

"  Bol ton's  going  past.  He's  leading!  "  And 
the  speaker  jumped  up  and  down  in  his  excite- 
ment. But  John  clung  to  the  leader's  rear 
wheel  and  went  with  him.  Faster  and  faster 
they  raced,  past  Tucker,  opening  a  big  gap  be- 
tween the  bunch.  Bolton  was  riding  for  glory, 
but  John  was  riding  for  something  besides  glory: 
341 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

his  success  meant  position,  standing,  a  great  op- 
portunity, a  future. 

A  hundred  feet  from  the  finishing  tape  he  bent 
his  head  and  made  a  tremendous  effort.  Early 
morning  training  stood  him  in  good  stead  now, 
for  he  began  to  gain  on  Bolton,  and  inch  by  inch 
to  pass  him.  The  old  machine  groaned  alarm- 
ingly, but  it  stood  up  to  its  work  in  spite  of  its 
protests.  Twenty  feet  from  the  finish  John 
seemed  to  leap  forward,  and  crossed  the  tape  just 
ahead  of  the  laboring  Bolton. 

The  crowd  was  rather  disappointed  to  see  its 
favorites  beaten,  but  applauded  the  winner  gen- 
erously as  he  went  up  to  the  judge's  stand  to 
receive  his  shining  prize. 

Gray  was  the  first  man  to  wring  his  hand;  his 
was  an  honest,  unfeigned,  glad  congratulation. 

"  Say,  Gray,"  said  John,  "  you  ride  her  home. 
I  want  a  farewell  ride  on  this  old  wheel.  I  pull 
out  to-morrow." 

"What!  "  ejaculated  Gray  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  that's  what  I  wanted  that  wheel  for.  I 
straddle  it  to-morrow  and  go  East.  I  haven't 
said  anything  about  the  plan,  for  I  wasn't  sure 
the  wheel  would  be  mine." 

"  Did  you  expect  to  win  ?  "  Gray  asked. 

"  I've  trained  a  month.  That's  what  gave  me 
the  wind  to  finish  so  strong.  You  see  my  plans 
342 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

need  transportation  East.  I  had  to  win — I'm 
going  to  ride  that  wheel  to  college." 

That  evening  John  bade  the  Marstons  good- 
by.  They  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  going; 
they  pictured  the  career  that  was  open  to  him  in 
the  town  where  he  had  made  friends  and  had 
gained  a  reputation,  but  his  mind  was  made  up, 
and  though  he  was  touched  by  their  kindness,  go 
he  must. 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  you  leave,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor. "  You'll  be  thrown  into  circumstances 
unlike  any  you  have  ever  met  before.  But  I 
know  that  you  can  adapt  yourself  to  new  condi- 
tions, and  for  that  reason  it  may  be  best  for  you 
while  your  mind  is  growing.  You  will  never 
forget  the  AVest,  but  I  feel  sure  you  will  not  leave 
the  East,  once  you  are  settled  there.  Good-by, 
my  boy,  and  God  bless  you." 

John  never  forgot  the  kind  parting  words  nor 
Professor  Marston's  always  considerate  treat- 
ment. 

The  two  friends,  Worth  and  Gray,  talked  long 
and  earnestly  that  night  and  it  was  late  when 
they  retired,  but  at  daybreak  they  were  stirring. 
John  ate  a  deliberate  breakfast,  strapped  a  few 
necessaries  to  his  wheel,  bade  his  friend  a  sincere 
farewell,  and  rode  off. 

He  pedalled  on  in  the  crisp  morning  air  till  he 
343 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO    COLLEGE. 

reached  a  high  point,  where  he  dismounted  and 
took  a  long  look  at  the  town  where  he  had  strug- 
gled so  hard,  but  which  was  the  scene  of  his  tri- 
umph as  well  as  his  trials.  His  satisfaction  was 
mixed  with  regret,  for  he  left  behind  good,  true 
friends  and  a  known  esteem,  for — he  knew  not 
what.  The  town  lay  in  the  hazy  valley  below, 
morning  smoke-wreaths  now  curling  from  many 
chimneys,  the  gray  shingle  roofs  embedded  in 
dark-green  foliage ;  it  was  a  scene  of  contentment 
and  rest.  He  contrasted  this  with  other  scenes, 
active,  restless,  hazardous  ones;  the  cattle  range, 
the  sheep  camp,  and  the  mine.  The  thought  of 
his  home  was  not  so  clear  as  the  later  scenes, 
though  he  had  visited  it  during  his  stay  at  school. 
He  had  found  Ben  an  almost  grown-up,  vigorous, 
business-like  ranchman,  glad  to  see  his  brother, 
but  interested  in  his  own  affairs;  not  the  same 
old  boyish  Ben  of  old. 

It  was  with  real  regret  that  he  turned  and  left 
the  town  that  had  in  a  way  been  a  cradle  and  a 
home  to  him. 

He  mounted  his  wheel  and  sped  down  the  slope 
— Eastward. 

Day  after  day  the  traveller  pushed  on,  follow- 
ing the  windings  of  the  roads  now  where  for- 
merly he  would  have  ridden  his  horse  as  the  crow 
flies. 

344 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

Seventy  miles  a  day.  Eighty  miles  a  day. 
Population  increased;  roads  were  better,  ninety 
miles  a  day.  His  training  for  racing  stood  him 
in  good  stead.  One  hundred  miles  a  day;  his 
face  always  turned  Eastward. 

Rains  came;  the  roads  became  rivers  of  mud. 
He  was  driven  to  the  drier  railroad  track  and 
jolted  along  over  the  ties.  Sixty  miles  a  day. 
The  end  not  yet  in  sight,  money  exhausted,  pros- 
pects not  very  cheerful;  but  with  resolution  un- 
daunted he  pushed  along.  A  brickyard  afforded 
temporary  work.  Five  dollars  earned,  he  "  hit 
the  trail "  again. 

Midday  was  fiercely  hot ;  he  took  advantage  of 
the  cool  mornings,  and  by  twilight  pedalled  con- 
tinuously. Wide  swamps  intervened.  Insects, 
stingingly  vicious,  beset  him.  The  sand  along 
the  river  banks  was  heart-breaking  to  a  wheel- 
man and  the  mountains  formed  almost  unsur- 
mountable  barriers.  People  he  met  misdirected 
or  were  ignorant,  and  he  often  went  far  out  of 
his  way. 


CATTLE  RANCH  TO   COLLEGE. 

But  the  goal  was  sighted  at  last.  The  day  he 
reached  Sherman's  town  he  made  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  and  rode  up  the  main  street  a 
sorry  specimen — tired,  dirty,  tanned  leather  color 
by  sun,  wind,  and  rain. 

His  plans  were  fully  made.  The  wheel  was 
pawned  at  once,  and  two  hours  later  John  Worth 
emerged  from  a  little  hotel,  bathed,  shaved,  and 
neatly  clothed. 

The  address  of  his  friend  written  for  him  was 
made  nearly  illegible  by  friction,  sweat,  and  dirt. 
But  by  the  aid  of  a  friendly  policeman  he  was 
able  to  find  Sherman's  house.  He  rang  the  bell, 
was  admitted  promptly  by  a  neat  maid,  and 
ushered  into  a  sumptuously  furnished  parlor,  the 
like  of  which  he  had  never  seen  before.  The 
chair  that  he  at  last  dared  to  use  was  soft  and 
luxurious,  and  the  journey  had  wearied  him  so 
that  he  was  just  about  dropping  off  to  sleep  when 
Sherman  entered. 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir?  "  Sherman's  greeting 
was  rather  formal.  "  What  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  John  started  to  his 
feet  with  a  jump. 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Sherman?  "  he  said. 

"You — you  can't  be  John  Worth?  Why, 
bless  my  heart,  is  it  really  you?  "  cried  Sherman. 

In  an  instant  the  one  idea  that  had  sustained 
346 


TWELVE  HUNDRED  MILES  AWHEEL. 

him  through  the  trying  hours  and  apparently 
endless  miles  of  his  journey  came  to  John's  mind. 
"  Yes,"  he  said,  the  light  of  triumph  in  his 
eyes.  "  I'm  John  Worth.  And  I've  come  to 
college." 


347 


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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY 'FACILITY 


